Life is so linear, why?
Train tracks and phone lines; all vectors of forever.
While in the near surroundings, small leaves make great noises,
And grass blades cover cites of minutiae.
Life is too rounded, too squared, too sharp, and too smooth.
Life is buildings, traffic, aluminum, and smog.
Out here I see trees and hills and dirt and fog.
Life is thermostats, fridges, and stoves.
Out here I feel sun and taste wind and breathe cold.
I think life would be this beautiful always,
If there were less of us living it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Benjamin, well written piece. Your ending was a bit of a shock...as I feel it is not about numbers, more to do with us all taking the responsibility for our home.10/10 Regards, Ian