For the Trees

Whispers before dawn as, one by one, 

we emerge from the morning mist

and gather at the Kennedy River Bridge.

Around the small fire, young men in dreads 

and warm woollen sweaters, beat softly on their drums, 

in tune with the heartbeat of Mother Earth.

Children with rainbow-painted faces and serious eyes,

gray haired grannies with big smiles,

young and old and in-between, we gather,

for the trees,

for the trees,

for our necessary sisters, the trees, 
as the big trucks roll in

and the officer reads out the injunction,

we stand.

We will not be moved.

We are Protectors, 
standing for the trees.

I was thinking about this week's  Mid Week Motiff prompt: Public Protest, all day, as I cleaned my room and set it back in order. Thinking that it does not matter if you are one lone man, standing in front of a row of tanks, a grandmother being hauled off to jail for trying to protect the forest, or a consumer refusing to buy any food or clothing item that involves the suffering of an animal or human to produce it. It only matters that we care, and do whatever speaks to us, one small act at a time.

We are seven billion strong. Several billion aware "small acts" a day would have enormous impact.