The Fool and the Fodder
In the notion of what is an earthly fool
To know one side of a coin as a tool
Yet the wind has no way to find shelter
From the fire as it burns its fodder
How I wish to be part of this incantation
To be at one with nature’s feverous stations
To live as a river and call upon the mountains
In a valley beyond the fjords and imposing glaciers
Yet away do I dwell in the burnt forests of man
Where the days turns the floors into ash
For all are told to be straight and pristine
Only to have these trees cut down first
Oh what if I wasn’t a fool and didn’t listen,
to have remained still and not another forest’s fodder
Michael Aquilina 20.11.2023