Dream of Nature

I want to immerse myself in solitude, 
in silence, in things that make my head
feel more like a universe, alien worlds 
waiting to be explored and discovered-
instead of a pit, scarred by violence, 
comforting me with blackness, 
in the corners, or under covers, drinking 
in the imaginings from tortured, 
overstimulated thinking.

I want open spaces, crunching
leaves beneath my feet, soft earth to
rebound from, and whisperings of
creatures that are not human- or a 
byproduct of humanity- screeching tires
and exhaust fumes, meaningless 
questions and hungry eyes ready to
consume anything with minimal digestion.

I want the sound of the wind through the
tips of trees to be my music, the morning
birds to wake me, a crackling fire
kept burning by my attention and clarity
outside the clutter of popular opinion- 
a kind of frenzy you can feel pouring
from each window, each mouth, sending 
signals like a smoke screen over my dream
of a more cloistered, natural existence.