Nature doesn’t make mistakes;
such a stupid thing to say.
Everyone and everything
mistakes its natures in its way.
The lines on a plane
indicate directions,
but we line up on either side
forming into factions.
It’s amazing
how easily we get it wrong.
A stranger’s look,
or the words to a song,
and we’ll
happily go on
our whole lives
believing we were right.
There is no moral
in the rain.
There is no beauty
in the Sun.
These are just
subjective reckonings
and they’re the least
of what we’ve done.
There is power in the eyes.
There is magic in the blood.
We believe in nature
and we do what nature does.
We dig inside the earth,
extract the metals out.
Smelt it and refine it.
Forge it and draw it out.
Shape its face into a blade,
one that shines from within
and marvel and how well
it splits the skin,
and call it “Beautiful”.
Nature doesn’t make mistakes.
Atrocity is in its blood.
It breathes life and death
without preference for either one.
We are nature
distilled down.
Avatar of worldly form.
Reflection of the desert sands,
ocean waves,
and forest floor.
Animal anomalous,
creature of curious mind.
Not knowing our own nature,
or the lineage of our kind.
Nature doesn’t make mistakes;
such a stupid thing to say.
Nature makes them all the time,
but she always washes them away.
HG – 2022
