The term survival seems archaic.
Primal.
Primitive.
Something we associate
with our deepest ancestral roots.
To survive something
is to do
what no one else will.
For a chance
to watch the sun rise
and the sun set.
One more time.
We view survival
as a primitive tool.
Not an everyday social cue.
These cues are framed
as something to praise.
Something civilized.
Worshipping those who exemplify great resilience,
fortitude,
strength,
grit.
But never exchanging the shiny,
accessorized words
for what they truly mean.
Because survival is ugly.
It’s grotesquE.
unseemly.
Something that would be hidden
behind closed blinds.
But she peers between the gaps,
eyes glittering.
Somewhere between the glass
and the reflection.
It leaves behind something new,
bright,
and tender
under the coals,
an ecosystem.
Cinders appear
and reappear.
But, the forest remains inviolable.
Leave a Reply