I. Downtrodden

The entrance to the lush ahead is alluring,
Enticing, captivating, a glittering treasure box,
A shimmering new world,
From the jungle of urban to the jungle of jungles,
Spinning your universe upside down
Upon one-way entry.

The road ahead does not pause,
For we brim with curiosity,
Explode with wonder,
Distilled amazement 
Our eyes are clear windows,
Crystals forming in the heat,
Emerging from the saturation of the forest,
Calling light to itself, then spinning out
Colour, colour, hues of green.

An unrivalled brilliance to marvel at.

Or have we already seen that before? 
I was pretty sure it was back there too.
Perhaps; perhaps, perhaps. Perhaps.
How about this? 
Why does it look so familiar?

Your brows offer doubt and puzzlement,
Even as the sun is at zenith,
Even as the road ahead widens and dilutes
Into gravel, sand, brown and grey encroaching green.
We begin to pick up pace, less rose-smelling,
For we know we’ve seen this or that before.
Surely we’ll find something more amazing further down.

Grey takes away the colorizing of our wandering vision,
Brown steals our anticipation of green,
As we look up at the sky blue for birds of the tropics,
Or squint through the dense growth for a peek of clearing,
Perhaps a mountain wall in its glorious rock layers,
Or a hurried light-scatter doled out by flowing water

Not really. Hm. And the blue we thought we had
Is starting to droop to a really dark grey.


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