Life

Life is everywhere

Here and there

The life of a tree

Or a man who flees

Life can be meaningful 

It can make you tearful or cheerful

There are many tearful parts of life

It may feel like your heart is stabbed with a knife

But there are also cheerful parts of life

That will make you want to survive 

Life is hard

It may feel like you are played like a card

But do keep in mind,

That there are always things so very kind

Awaiting you in life

A Guide to Dying Trees

If it’s a quiet night, shut your eyes and strain your ears real tight, and you may hear the trees crying amongst themselves. That’s only if you’re a lucky fellow. For some, the five senses alone aren’t enough. If this is the case for you, don’t you worry kid, there are some rules you must follow:

1. The big men with their chainsaws have to retire for the evening. Bless your heart for thinking that their guilt brimmed dreams will keep them up at night. But honey, they sleep soundly every day. Peaceful and sinless, with hands washed clean of blood stains from thousands of years of life. Taken away in an instant. But never you mind, them trees have their ways. The dead dirt can dig itself deep underneath their fingernails; it stays there forever and it never forgets.

2. The raging blazes of golden fires have to be calm and asleep, like a conked out baby in a rocking chair. This one’s a little tricky because those fires sure love to burn. Once the glorious light fades and the smoke dwindles into the dull, sick air, you can get a real nice view of the gray ash and the death the flames left behind like a litterer. I heard from a friend, who heard it from a friend, who heard it from a cat, who heard it from a bird, who sat on one of the branches: that the trees will always remember the feeling of fire. According to the little blue songbird, the trees say it's warm at first. Sweet like sunlight on their barky skin but quickly and nastily growing hotter and hotter and hotter until it's just numb, white sharp pain like the glittering point of a katana.

3. You must remember that everything is connected. To hear the trees, you can’t just hear the trees. It’s like a museum, you can’t just stare at one corner of a painting and hope to understand it, right? You gotta step back and take in the whole picture: all the colours and all the brushstrokes and whatnot. I wouldn’t know, I’m not an artist. Listen to the sounds! Of the rivers: the trickling, gentle flow of tranquil water crashing into the rocks. Of the wind: brushing softly onto foliage, making even the largest and strongest of trees tremble. Nothing can exist without the existence of something else that exists because of something’s existence, got it?

It’s a terrible time to be a youth. People are going mad, turning on the greens of the grasses, the delicate kindness of the flowers and the joyous chattering of the animals. As if they’re not the reason we walk this very Earth with food in our warm bellies and caring clothes on our backs. I swear that one day, once everything on Earth is gone and dead, these wicked people will drag down the stars from their home in the divine sky so they can light up their own silly screens and ignore the perishing world around them.

I’d knock on wood, but unfortunately, it's all gone.