fishing

The daylight was brilliant that morning

As I filled myself of poetry and the sound of junipers subtly moved by the symphony of wind

I’d been watching a battle between survival and death

— between nature

and what is natural

He looked me in the eyes as he’d suffocated on the means of my survival opposing to his own

Unadulterated as it were

I soon began fighting a battle of my own

A battle of sentiment and intellect

How I could so freely — almost without consent —

admire nature to the very core of its roots

yet simultaneously find it to be so cruel

Perhaps the contrast is the beauty I find most admirable —

For the great norths’ descension of sun are nothing short of enlightenment — merely vibrant enough to make a man question his very motives

As its darkest, most silent nights

merely burn the brightest and ceaselessly abundant stars

eager to emit hope