The realm of the complex: Humans

We have been there all this time. Did you not notice? You play beneath our shade; did you not look up at our foliage? Amidst our bosom you laughed; did you not realise that we cleansed your air?

Now, you suddenly notice us. You notice the cracks, the localised decay, the rare infestation at the roots. You walk up closer, and point that once-limp finger with accusations. You forgot about the green, you forgot about the shade. No. You never did notice it before. But you are good at pointing at the cracks and chinks, are you not?

But is that not the way of the human jungle? As much as we worked tirelessly, you would not notice. The good is dull, the bad is bright. As much as we feel dismayed at this sad reality, I realise that, possibly, that is the way it generally works around here. Yes, here in the human forest.

I guess I will continue to work at what I do. I know that I clean the air because I believe that clean air is better than unclean air; I provide shade because I believe that death by scorching is bad. Moral high ground you say. Well, at the very least, its a firm ground beneath me.

If you decide I am replaceable by an air-purifier, so let it be so. Ultimately, you are the one with the axe; I am the one made of wood.

"The Human Jungle" by ConfusedUncle
Uncle T