National Forest Of The Mind Poem by Sonny Rainshine

He never had need of nature;
sequoia forests furnished his mind
and pristine mountain brooks
aflush with rainbow trout
coursed through his being
like capillaries.

He began to equate the memory
of tupelo gums, wood ferns, and wild geese
with the wilderness itself
and all his expeditions
and trail hikes were imagined ones—
a real tree horrified him
and seemed too intimate,
too towering, so disturbingly real.

It was similar to those people
who spend their holiday
taking photographs
instead of engaging with the surroundings,
a lens keeping them separate
from the intensity
of experience.
They return with a hundred pictures
in well-organized albums,
but the images in their hearts
and heads are blurred
and confused.

Someday, he says,
he’ll take a trip
to see if he still remembers
how to see a tree.