Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Poem by Rob Badger

Human Fields

A mountain lies in the west constantly dreaming. Forever sleeping as its different body parts move and sway with the winds. Although trapped in sleep the mountain can escape in many ways. Plants and trees shed part of themselves eventually dealing out new life in old places. Butterflies leave the vast expanse of mountain skin just to touch down again, changing its pigment once more. For each moving, breathing thing there is something that comes to a standstill, something that no longer needs air. Each being has a certain time of wakefulness until eternal sleep. We must do this in shifts because we believe the power struggle now is bad, but we are one species. I can only imagine…

Eventually after our shift of sleep is over we may be roused again. The mountain sleeps on waiting for the day he can again walk through sleeping human fields, and admire again all the different colors, shapes, and sizes.

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