Open your eyes to the sounds of gushing water,
clear and cool, a glass case for shimmering
thin fish that flicker and dance
and rush with the current.
Open your eyes to bursting colors
of greens, lush with vegetation,
leaves rustle in the silence
and fall quietly back again.
Open your eyes to the pops of red,
and pink and deep azure and sunny yellow,
that stretch wildly, entangled together,
an enjambment of nature’s paint palette.
Open your eyes to the mossy swamps
that ooze with lurking creatures,
and mosquitoes and marshland,
the king alligator on his bed,
a life of different but equal importance.
Open your eyes to aquamarine shades,
and salty stings in your nose,
danger and survival thrive in harmony,
though these vast stretches can’t be seen
unless you dive under.
Open your eyes to everything,
in which everything is life,
where the soil is not suffocated with concrete
the air is not suffocated with fumes,
the waters are not suffocated with litter
there is still a home,
even if we’re not living there.