Thursday, February 21, 2019

This Poem is a Weeping Wild Woman

This poem is a weeping wild woman who hears 
the cries of Mother Earth and her creatures.
This poem is melting ice, starving polar bears, 
burning forests, warming seas, warring armies.
This poem searches earth and sky, looking for hope 
for a suffering planet.

This poem is a wild woman who hears
the call of Raven, howl of  wolf, 
wails of distress from every corner of the world.
What is she to do, with all of this knowing, 
when the cries of the suffering
are not being heard
    are not being heard
        are not being heard?
How many times can her beating heart break
against the certain knowledge that 
the planet she loves is burning itself up?

This poem is watching the poles melt, 
the polar bears grow thin and weak,
sitting on melting ice floes with their young, 
wandering into villages in search of food,
looking at us, in need of help
that does not come.
This poem hears the warning that is not being heeded:
not much time not much time not much time
as mad leaders and corporate greed responds: 
"Money rules."
This poem sadly reflects: 
No jobs, no money, no life, on a dead planet.
This poem cannot contain its grief, 
so sometimes it spills over.

This poem does not want to end 
without offering a note of hope.
It finds it in the beauty of sky and landscape, 
in the shine in children's eyes
- those children who need and deserve a future - 
and in Mother Earth's steadfastness, 
as she follows her endless cycle of rebirth,
giving and giving, season after season, 
in spite of us.
This poem says: 
Money rules, but the spirit liberates,
and lives in hope that we can evolve
from our destructive, warring ways,
and return all creatures to the Garden.

This poem is a weeping wild woman 
in need of hope.
This poem is all that is melting and dying, 
in need of our help. (Not much time.)
This poem is a prayer of vanishing faith, 
living in a wasteland of distress, 
that refuses to give up.

Well. Not an uplifting poem. But the photos of starving polar bears have lived in my head all week. I did not post the one that pierced my soul, to spare you. But it can never be unseen. This poured out in response to my challenge at Real Toads: to write a Boomerang Metaphor poem, as created by Hannah Gosselin or, to write a "This poem is...." poem.

My "This poem is" poem is rather disheartened. Yet, when I look around me at all the beauty, I simply can't believe that humankind will allow all of this to be destroyed. I hope a million Wild Women will run for office everywhere and turn this sinking ship around. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez would get my vote in a heartbeat.


  1. Oh my aching heart.. this is so evocative, Sherry!

  2. This poem is an honest eco boomerang poem that cries out for us all. Thank you, Sherry.

  3. A wonderful heartfelt tragic poem that brought a tear to my eye. I too feel the pain of Mother Earth and her creatures.

  4. Sadly humans are not being humane all the while money and profits are more important than anything else. Those with money think only of today and not whether the Earth is still spinning to keep them alive. Sadly telling us how you see the world disintegrate is falling on deaf ears elsewhere. The only way something can be done is for a great catastrophe to occur that may be signal that the end for many has arrived but then it might be too late...even for the rich and those that care little except living for the day.

  5. Robin, sadly i think that is the only way those who are left will be forced to change. It is very discouraging. Much suffering lies ahead.

  6. "This poem cannot contain its grief,
    so sometimes it spills over." One of my dearest friends believes as you do... It certainly is something to learn more about and ponder. Either way, we fall short in caring for this Earth.

  7. This poem cannot contain its grief,
    so sometimes it spills over.

    I think this is true of poetry: it is what spills over.

  8. The lump of grief and guilt in my throat and utter hopelessness in my's painful.

    The lines where you repeat in three's are so effective for this poem...feels like a drumbeat and a chant...

    So heartfully, beautifully rendered Sherry. Thank you, so much for bringing this challenge to life again and sharing your voice for those who cannot, 'speak.'


  9. ##Me too, Sherry. I also feel sorry for the other wildlife as well. I hear the seals are getting stranded in useless places on their floating ice pieces.

  10. I cry for them all too. May your hopes come true!

  11. This is a poem .... for all of time!

  12. “This poem cannot hold its grief/so sometimes it spills over.” Beautiful and heartbreaking. I can’t get the images of the polar bears out of my head either.

  13. Heartbreaking and so full of the grief today. Well done Sherry.


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