Forever Misplaced

We are part of a tree. We are linked to a stem. It is symbolic, of course, unless it is fiction. It is. We are rings. We look the same, at least on the outside. Inside, we are different; one espouses humanity's feminine side and the other engulfs humanity's masculine one.

We used to festoon two fingers that loved each other and all the rest, until the female wearer passed away. It was expected, somehow. The signs were there; ruining, and then blinding her, symbolically. Pain is unacceptable. The human condition, is ridiculous. We were durable rings.

Platinum was their choice for us, as gold did not fill the mould of their taste. Aesthetics appear to have lost its pull in the 21st century, but many still hold to the fact that humans were never equal, and as two silvery rings, we can attest to it, palladium-made.

The tree did not seem to mind having us resting on one of its large leaves, adopting us for rainy days, as corrosion was not in the natural cards for two such circles of love, including the eternal diamond adorning each one of us to render us and it even more interlinked.

They observed, both of them, that humanity had become both misplaced and displaced, considering us, their rings, temporary at best, as death almost always separated a pair of lovers, unless both joined oblivion at the same time. Such accidents have their merit in some circles.

Many years had passed without warning

Instilling a sense of foreboding

Summarising life with a mourning

Preferring to appear exploding

Leaves have fallen every fleeting year

Admitting each time the end is near

Calling in the wind for more sunshine

Enveloped by the force of a sphere

Debating whether life is benign

Resting before becoming part of the leaf and the tree, we thought about her and then about him. Who was worse off, after all, the deceased or the living? It may sound and read like a trick question, yet it was an honest thought, however circular it may feel.

Humanity was obviously dying as well. Many blamed oil, poverty and other tangibles, yet the true culprit was irrational dogma and greed. Greed is not good. Even we knew it, all around within our core. Humanity was playing a game; many games with no clear winner.

Nature's ring had been rusting given that its iron core could not escape forever the dire effects of oxygen, which was meant for living but also dying; a balance that was losing its equilibrium with every passing period, however it was being measured.

Dust to dust? They were never dust. She was buried and he does not care what will happen to his body following his demise. He even deposited us on that large leaf, a solemn sacrifice to the greatest life form, at least on Earth. He still loves trees more than most humans.

We were not misplaced. We were displaced to a space in time where our worth, palpable and representative, depended on Nature and or fate. The wind moved us closer, until we touched, feeling within a tiny fraction of their climactic union. The tree appeared more beautiful.