Pandora’s box was the first tilling of the soil. Opening Mother Earth’s mouth spilling every manner of everything into the open sky. Washing the earth with desire’s hope to have everything now.
The wild world is an open prairie. Swaying grasses. Sage rolling over hills. Mountains, arroyos and canyons. Untamed forests. Stubborn. Silver ribbons. Wide open mouths. Hungry for everything that moves. Not a fenced in sight. No corral. No light switches to light up the world. Instead of the sun.
I’ve given up the wild world for the convenience of anything delivered to my door.
Sumer's Words from the Woods 