That gargantuan tree striving to touch the clouds
Its juicy bark and climbing limbs curl around in coiled crowds
Thick twisted branches in a dance,
Would I climb them now, if I had the chance?
I notice my lack of an adventurous stance.
I see a man walking on a tree trunk,
Both of them, the log and the man, rough, dark and dirty
Attempting their task with courage and spunk
Not such risks in my secure life...
In it I can lose my bones and muscles like Lot's wife
Fleeing from and eliminating all worlds of strife
I admire the wild turkey with its irrepressible temperament.
Fear never prevented her from expressing her resentment
In a loud and disorganize race for the face.
Nature and the stormy sky,
Highlight my monolithic shelter
Inside it I kiss no frogs,
All that touches my lips has been sanitized.
Perhaps I could do a better job.
