Away

I want to run away.

Away from this self-consecrated

forest of concrete

And leave these bleak,

Dreary grey. roads

Behind.

I want to go somewhere

Where testaments to time

– Pillars of pine —

Scrape the sky,

Where my monastery is maple,

And the eucharist is a river.

A place where ancestors are respected,

But built upon nonetheless.

Where interconnection is universal,

As the sun feeds the plankton

Get Jessie’s stories in your inbox

Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.

Remember me for faster sign in

The plankton feed the krill,

The krill feed the salmon,

And the salmon feeds the bear.

Where wolves howl,

Birds chirp and sing their mating tunes,

Meese run alongside their young,

And the food isn’t pumped with dye.

And in this place,

I’ll fish,

Forage,

Sing,

And write.

And here,

For the first time,

I’ll just be,

And I’ll be

Happy.