Nature's Innocent Gift

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Free Verse Poetry
A prosetry exploration: Does today's super highway of information just report, or does it promote the precipitous cliffs of folly? If we don’t use the info to preserve life, Nature, and discovery, what’s it all about? (Image by Dali)

Submitted: November 10, 2018

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Submitted: November 10, 2018

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Nature’s Innocent Gift

 

From where comes what?

 

Paths of growth,
molecule by molecule,
osmosis causing some,
birth causing many.

 

All perform a purpose.
The leaf.
The berry.
The evolved creature.
Man.

 

Yet, unknown to many,
forces concealed by Nature,
by technology,
by deceit,
tempt the dangerous walk
upon ice often too thin to trust.

 

Nature warns us,
as technology but implores us,
as the greed of gluttony takes aim,
ignoring any and all boundaries.

 

Like a rogue flame unquenched,
envy and desire find oxygen
amidst the unbridled drive.

 

Such was…

 

Once of love's caress,
now but duplicitous habit,
learned fear feasting upon the screams
contained within the mind’s paranoia.

 

Where did it all start?

 

Starting young,

“if I can't have it,
you can't either.”

 

Unfortunately…

 

Many grown up children trapped
by fantasy-imbued expectations
like clothes,
nips,
tucks,
lifts,
implants,
botoxification,
and lest we forget platinum cards,

seldom have a chance to grow up.

 

Yet distinct from unlimited plastic,
or pharma-yellow, reds and blues in a bottle,
the attendant poisonous infliction on one's mind
remains as an open wound,
where malice hides,
waits,
gently revs its engine,
then creeps,
until,
while sentience sleeps
and vulnerability lies naked
opportunity pounces.

 

Ah…

 

A mouth of white veneers,
so crafty,
such clever disguises
for our less than perfect incisors,
hidden by practiced thin lips of cunning,
now reduced to needle-generated kiss kiss.

 

Enhancements all to satiate

visceral appetites
regardless of cost.

 

And if…


Reality takes its time,
there's always the awaiting tabloids
to feed one’s “wanna be” fantasy.

How tempting their four-color purpose
promoting predatory peep-shows
glorifying weaknesses and mistakes,
venality in disguise awaiting

the pathetic needs of our species,
especially at check-out stands,
that place where reading takes place,
the only reading for many.

 

And yet...

 

Some of us choose to believe
breath remains in abundance

in order to think,
to do,
to be something beyond this acidic veneer,
something akin to the beginning,
when life was Nature's innocent gift,
when a baby's need was to grow up rejoicing,

not regretting.


© Copyright 2018 Odin Roark. All rights reserved.

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