Shhh, listen to the whispers
hovering in the gentle breeze voices coming from the mountains and seas
in between the great oaks and evergreens
a chant in synchronous harmony
of their plight, their soon demise
they were here before us to till and nourish
the soil and waters, share its nutrient exhaleso that we can breathe the earths vitality
and drink of Mother Natures milk and walk
amidst a gift of paradise in perpetuity
but, shhh, listen to the cries of sorrow now
that blow in the wind, sometimes howlingin angry destructive gusts telling us of
how without the trees we will not breathe
or cannot catch the wind and without clear brooks
and springs we will not drink, we will breach
the harmony of things
listen as the whispers have become screams
in portentous calls of thrusting angry firesand torrential tears, breathing frigid
air amidst blinding squalls, instilling a fear, this
of our own doing from careless and uncaring
hands through the years, now casting
an ominous shadow upon our paradisiacal gift
Wowzers, my friend, you are on fire! Am so struck by the "cries of sorrow.....that tell us....we will breach the harmony of things." As we already have, sadly. You give trees, and all of nature, a powerful voice in this poem, and could not have expressed their plight and their distress - and their sorrow - any better. Loved this.
ReplyDeleteYour use of repetition, especially the word "listen," is so effective! We destroy so much of Nature because we don't stop to listen, to see, to understand. Your poem captures the immediacy of the plight.
ReplyDeleteThose last two stanzas drove it home for me ~ It is indeed sad to listen to the mourning sounds of the cold wind ~ brrr. its chilly enough here my friend ~ let's all suffer together, smiles ~
ReplyDeletea vital message, well conceived and executed ~
ReplyDelete