Fire, who needs fire? The jungle is inside us - some call it remembrance of the natural world.
All I can say in my defense is, my evening jog begins among that clusterf--- of sunset-capturing devices and reaches its apogee at a much quieter spot. Somewhere I can swim solitary-like and rash free (although the number of sand-skimming boats parked a hundred yards offshore has multiplied).*
Damon Shulenberger #endurancewriter
* The writing is on the wall - there is very little planning to the current wave of development. It is accepted wisdom that the green tropical lushness on a very small island that once defined the word 'paradise' must be covered in haphazard, four-story boxes.
There is no clearing, the jungle is overpowering
with elephant shriek and trumpet moan,
the man, the dream, the cunning child
closed in, convoluted
The dreaming world, the beach
the screams through the thicket
piercing horror and never ending
Cries that reverberate and remind us just how
insignificant is our colony, how
transient and unnecessary––
we are not moving toward the harbor,
we are not shifting with the sun
But if we allow the darkness to run inside us
and the labyrinthine shadows to form in our soul
then maybe we are in the clearing, home.
From Earth Fabric