By Corey Zeedar
I look across the lake.
I see the green trees, blooming with life.
I hear the birds chirping
In the distance a mother bear hunting for salmon to feed to her nearby cub’s.
I see an eagle overhead, scouting over the land.
all is right in this world; everything has its way of life.
Though, just ahead of this beautiful idealistic world, in this world of ours.
There is pain, death, loss of beautiful full-grown trees.
This world has been burned and charred.
There are no trees.
There is no vegetation.
There is no wildlife.
There is no life.
I see smoke, charred carcasses
I see smoldering permafrost
A land reformed in this new world of fire, and pain.
As time goes by, it has finally stopped steaming.
In the blowing wind, flows the will of life growing from the death that has claimed this land.
A colonizer behind death wherever it may go.