GENRE – Prose Poem
I stood alone, in the center of the forest, on the long, winding, concrete trail. I listened to the trees bristling in the gentle breeze, the leaves scraping against one another as they ebbed and flowed with the wind, along with the chirping of the birds high up in the treetops. I felt the wind through my hair and along my limbs as it flurried around my body. I looked around the forest, spots of sun filtered in through the canopy and dappled the ground, highlighting the earth, the leaves that lay on it, and the trunks of fallen trees. Each trunk was different in shape, size, color, and age. It was almost as if I was standing at the center of a battlefield from a war waged long ago, between earth and sky. For a moment, there was peace, calm, and serenity. Slowly, the smell of petrichor gathered in my nose as the sky gradually darkened and the chirping of the birds died down. I heard the rain begin to fall as the sky became darker, like an early sunset. Through the canopy, I witnessed a bright flash of light from the sky, followed shortly thereafter by a thunderous boom. It was then I realized that the battle was not over, and that this forest was a lone soldier in the eons long war between the kingdoms of earth and sky. I was merely a beetle on a tree, a spectator to the earth’s majesty and the sky’s power, and yet, I felt as if I was home. I was not in control, and yet I had no fear.