To Witness

There's this robin edging closer and closer, studying me with its seedy eyes, head cocked to the side. This air belongs to spring. Trees belong to birds. I'm just a witness here. Somewhere, the mountains happen. Pelicans migrate. Tadpoles do their tadpole thing. If ever you're feeling self-important go out to the woods and stand, stunned. Don't forget how small you are, even born of stars. This world is full of people who only look out for themselves, people who strive with the single-minded aim of getting their own without thinking of what it costs others. But that selfishness costs--it pollutes not only the air and the earth, but our minds and ability to trust. There's nothing lonelier than not being able to trust. But that's exactly what happens in a world gone corporate. I remember reading once how scientists had genetically modified butterflies in an attempt to study their genes, one day giving them the ability to adorn their wings with advertisements and slogans. Must everything become staked and named? What of witness?