Everything Is Alive, and Listening

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The stone in your hand, warm from the sun,

is alive, having traveled such a long journey

to fit into your palm.

Everything under the sun 

is as happy to be alive as we,

dolphins, leaping with joy in the silver sea,

whose squeals turn to pain and terror

when the death boats come hunting,

and the seas turn red.

Trees talk to each other, hold rooted hands

under the soil, all across the forest floor.

They whisper to those of us Two-Leggeds

who listen.

The mighty beings  quake
at the screech of the saws,

roots parting reluctantly from the soil

as their majestic bodies topple.

Everything in the world is alive,

and listening.

Water, too, is alive,
its molecular structure changing
in response to the love,
hatred, peace or discord

we beam at it.

If a drop of water changes structure
from dark to light,
in response to love,

should not the dark hearts of men
respond in kind?

The wild creatures feel all that we feel,

joy at being alive,
building their nests,

raising their young, but they also

feel fear and pain, the struggle to survive,

grief when they lose their kin,

gratitude when, tummies full, night falling,

they have survived another day.

That rock in your hand, warm from the sun,

having made its long journey

to this resting place:

place it back on earth, in testimony

to all that passes, all that will remain.

Found this in my drafts folder, written some time ago.........My heart is listening, these days, to the cries of mothers and children, ripped from each other's arms.