She stands leaning
against the wall, wearing
a camoulflage shade,
and she admits,
it's the new fashion.

She looks at me and winks -

"See, this is my camouflage.

The one you prune
and deforest is me."

I'm back in the world
Where nothing makes sense
Except this existence
In past/future tense
In utopian Andes
I see ancient temples
The Inka my children
Move mountains to meet you
Build cities to greet you
Like Yavin 4 Rivendell
Fairy tales come true
For Shangri La lenses
Through which I have seen through
Become the cascading
And fuego throat truth spew
Of my stoic peaks
Where too much green to see blue
Is wild and thriving
In time is the essence
The stench of surviving
The sweet effervescence
My love evanescent
All relative bliss
In a world luminescent
A powerful cleansing
Of flowerful jungles
And showers replenishing
Buzzing bee bumbles
Who ride like the winds
As they uplift my wings
In a chorus of eagles
To harpyist strings
Yes indeed we're a breed
That is rare and in need
Of a high elevation
To teach and to lead
To share and to spread
Every bountiful seed
We are young and incredibly gifted and freed
By the journeys we take
To mortality's edge
Then we leap from the faith
Of a bungee jump ledge
For these trips into falls
Are immortal in dreams
So sublime and surreal
In our consciousness streams
As we turn up the offspring
The life here it teems
And we are the Mother Earth's
Ends to the means
The rust in the gears
Of deforest machines
Who dare cut us down
From the summits we've reached
When transcending the limits
Of Heavens we've breached