The healing caress of the natural world
is crowded out by skyscrapers and cement
the hum of rubber wheels on the highway
distracts from the mountains rising in the distance
A humbling sensation, a separation from ego
each time I open my backdoor to be once again
engulfed in the cooling exhale of green leaves
being reabsorbed into the breathing earth
How many millions are out there
left untouched by this indefinable majesty
a terminal separation from divine source
crammed between steel beams
Reduced to fingering picture book images
of the places meant to be intimately known
the unbridled angst that bubbles beneath a species
ignorant of the scent of the rain hitting dry soil
Buying the lie that we've sold to ourselves of
not needed, even avoiding, this sacred connection
cut off from the great spirit we placed
on a shelf alongside philosophy books
The only God I know is right here within the
shifting forms of this forest teeming with life
I pray to the rolling clouds themselves
not some undetermined dimension beyond them
We preach about the fall from grace while simultaneously
recreating our exile from the garden every day
placing money in a bowl to praise a God
we rip up by the roots for the paper it's printed on
I don't have to wonder if a higher power hears my prayers
they are answered in each sunrise and every crashing wave
responses carried back to me on the evening breeze
a perfect goddess dressed in green outside my window
Protect the Innocent 