I put my hand to the tree
I let my fingers fall across
I feel the texture, the temperature, the contour
It’s real. I know it, as I drag my hand across the bark
The synapses feed the senses, and I know
It’s concrete – it’s cold – it’s truth
I am so confused
How can we doubt what is so physically obvious?
How can we question what is certainly absolute?
Am I so deluded to refuse the existence of the tree?
Its nature? Its state? Its purpose?
Am I so naive and stubborn and egocentric
That I must expect the world to accept my misguided arrogance?
To take my absurd rebellion, and forcibly stitch it into the pages of truth?
In our quest to question everything, we have deconstructed the fabric of reality
And the worlds in the sky look down on our self deception
And they are confounded by the lies we have swallowed
Greedily devouring the destructive agendas of those who would see it all burn
Must we pawn our consciences to buy the right to sell our souls?
And the bidder isn’t even bidding high
We tout our titles, as if we are apart of some enlightened movement
But we are plunging so obviously into a hell we are not prepared for
We have blind-folded our better sense of morality
And frozen the chambers of our hearts – and claim we are filled with love
As we accept that which would see us damned
And encourage that which damns
And damn those who would make it right
Imagine the child with cancer
Imagine that we celebrate his state
Imagine that we seek to grow his cancer
Imagine that in the name of “love” and “acceptance”
We say, “we should not seek to change him”
“We must not be judgmental”
“This is who he is”
How loving are we to celebrate a man’s delusional disorder
And rather than rehabilitate, we encourage his decent into madness?
We affirm his deception, and let him fall deeper into a darkness that is consuming
Yes. You are so full of love. You sentence a man to needless death.
Congratulations. You are progressive. You are relevant.
You have listened to the ques of the mob.
You have swallowed the hook of the depraved.
You dance like the puppet you are.
Dangling from strings you mindlessly allow to move you.
You are guilty of so much desperate evil.
And you sleep at night.
Believing yourself to be full of love.