Inhale, two, three, four, five, six…
Exhale, two, three, four, five, six…
Inhale, two, three, four, five, six…
Exhale, two, three, four, five, six…
The jungle claims all.
All befall by inaction.
It dismantles products of neglect and nescience.
All without motion or a plan to be so…
Is doomed.
The immobile, stagnant or simply slow, are encroached upon, engulfed and eventually engrossed and/or ingested.
Nothing escapes.
The strong, the flexible, the weak.
The solid, the fluid, the very air itself.
Is vulnerable.
Soft, organic matter is quickly conquered, covered up and consumed.
A process which never fails to astound that which limits itself in linear time.
Superseded only perhaps by the speed of subsequent growth.
The growth of more that must also keep moving.
Lest it too become food for another, faster feaster.
Solid, strong matter (organic or no) maybe slow to go.
But go it must.
Be it by rot or rust.
The jungle claims it all.
Inhale, two, three, four, five, six…
Exhale, two, three, four, five, six…
Inhale, two, three, four, five, six…
Exhale, two, three, four, five, six…
m(___)m
