An Apple Tree Amongst Diamond Towers

Walden! I seek you during empty hours.

The docile take their apple farms as wild,

While chronic tillage cultivates the child;

Their faultless melodies breached by power,

And taught to sow abroad where soil hasn’t soured.

Rapacious craving taints your pond now mild.

Distant and dry are mouths who live beguiled.

What hope under blinding diamond towers?

Let the spirit rave—Birds don’t sing in caves.

A thousand seeds contend a single fruit, but

Complacent dwelling smothers growing grasses.

Behold Walden! For Nature cannot enslave!

Release the temporal; crack and shell the nut.

Truth welcomes the desperate men of masses.