google image - thebackpacker.com
Across these waving grassy fields,
once soldiers fought and died.
The land is steeped
in the blood of young men and horses,
and the land remembers.
In the sea cave,
there lurks a feeling dark and dank.
Once a bloody battle
was fought along this shore,
and warriors crawled
into the cave to die.
The land remembers.
Across this round blue planet,
is there an inch of earth
unstained by human blood,
untouched by the clamor
and clash of human war?
It is entirely possible
that Mother Earth herself
has post traumatic stress.
Her lightning storms and hurricanes,
her tidal waves and tornadoes,
may be her way of telling us
she needs to be appeased.
Sit on a rock and hum to her.
Sprinkle a little love potion her way.
Send her your love and gratitude -
and she will remember.
Kids, I wrote this before Global PTSD, written on the same theme, and am posting it here as an offering, given I am struggling with exhaustion these days and barely keeping up. Long day today, but I have tomorrow off, and am looking forward to it with tenacity!
Wonderful words, Sherry! I hope you can rest up as summer begins.
ReplyDeleteThe harvest picture is so beautiful, to accompany your poem.
A few years ago, I had the honour of joining some other teachers in a study tour in France and Belgium. Seeing the fields of Flanders, I realized how much "the land remembers". Freshly cultivated fields in 2006, were dotted with remnants of 1916 and the rest of WWI years.
Really enjoyed reading poem on this land theme. :)
Oh I love this and yes, the land remembers!
ReplyDeleteVery moving Sherry and I agree, the land does remember.
ReplyDeleteThis is a beautiful piece. Yes, she is alive and she remembers...we have but to listen....she speaks in the wind. The land remembers.
ReplyDeleteAlways nice to be encouraged to bless the mother. She def has scars and nightmares.
ReplyDeleteHope your day goes smoothly. You sound so tired.
We may not be aware of the wheat that grounds our souls while we still see the electric blue sky
ReplyDeleteSo feel it near yet at a distance and share the endless prairie many fold
You are the earth alive and more everlasting than her weathers
between the why of blue skies and its lightning bolt echos somewhere in our thoughts streaming my thin atmosphere
beholds your light...
Who could have known in the Islands to the
West and Northern polar exposure there lives the panther in stealth in the pines just outside our garden?