A Dream of Future Past

I awaken to the scent

of moisture.

When I look about me

I see tree trunks shooting upward

towards a green, living canopy above.

Filtered from above,

the light feels soft and pleasant.

Sounds reach me from all levels

of the forest.

Bird song provides the melody;

the buzz of many insects

the bass undertone;

and the shrieks and calls

of the colonies of monkeys

hidden in the treetops

provide the counterpoint

in the living song surrounding me.

Besides the myriad shades of green,

I see wild, vibrant colors

decorating the trees.

All around I sense

the hum of life.

Life as it has been,

unchanged for millions of years,

delicately balanced

and glorious in its diversity.

Carried by the wind,

a new scent arrives,

the smell of death for the forest--

fire.

Sounds approaching

invoke the feeling of invaders

from another time.

Loud crashes,

steady thumps,

but instead of a marching horde of

the giant dinosaurs they sound like,

the lumbering machines of man appear.

The song of the forest has changed.

The simple joy of living

fades into the panicked screams of fear

that mute the sound of man

to an ominous rhythmic undertone.

I close my eyes against the sight

and when all falls silent

I look around me

and see the desert that I call home.

A dry and gritty wind

wipes away the last scent of forest

from my aching nostrils

as the brutal, unrelenting sun

bakes my skin

with its harsh reality.

My eyes cannot even cry

for what is lost;

my body has forgotten how.