Day 6: Wild Writing
What if a tsunami comes
and swallows the whole shelf of books
I have spent the last few years writing?
What if the books survive, after my death,
but no one reads them?
What if my poetry dies with me,
does not live on, this road map
that charted my journey
and everything I have learned?
What if no grandchild picks them up, one day,
and turns the pages, getting to know me
better than they ever did in life,
because they are reading
the words of my heart?
What if I never get to live
with a dog again?
What if this virus is with us forever,
wave after wave of peaks and valleys?
What if we can never go out again
without worrying about disinfecting everything
when we get home?
What if, this summer, temperatures climb
to unlivable levels?
What if fire season gobbles
more and more forest,
and burns the koalas and kangaroos
that survived last year's inferno?
What if we survive the virus
and the air gets so polluted again
that we choke on it, trying to breathe?
What if the polar bears and grey whales
and orcas go extinct?
What if the melting ice at the poles
tilts the earth on its axis?
What if the sun beats down beats down beats down
mercilessly because we did not change
our ways in time?
What if we keep treating animals the way we have
and the viruses keep multiplying because of it?
What if, while I was getting groceries,
the virus caught a ride on me
and is making its way into me
and the most horrifying death I can imagine?
what if, standing at the beach,
heart swelling at the beauty of the shore
on this grey misty west coast morning
- I so grateful grateful grateful to be here -
it was the last time I will ever stand there?
What if, one day, all that is left
are clearcut slopes, burned forests,
crumbling high rises, deserted cities,
a boiling sea, and skeletons
with mouths hanging open
from begging for water
with their last breath?
A cheery little poem - not - in response to the wild writing prompt What If....? You can see my mind runs on one track. Thank heavens for earthweal and a place to put it! Will share with their open link on Sunday.
Powerful reflections. I do hope your poetry does NOT die, that you have a grandchild out there who will keep it alive and savor it and be so proud of you for all you have written. And, alas, I think we all fear that the virus will catch a ride on us somehow, and it does sound like a most horrible death. And I fear too that this virus will live on, will change life forever!
ReplyDeleteGod bless and may these questions bombard each and every one on earth!
ReplyDeleteHow could we not see such things and wonder? We each tend our creations with care and like children, give a prominent shelf to them and wonder what will become of them -- yet dying -- ours and the world's is cruel and oblivion the fate of every lost thing. How fast everything vanishes there. We were born for it. Know you have made the journey so real and sweet and true for a few. Good journey! Keep walking! Write it down! - Brendan
ReplyDeleteWild writing indeed, Sherry! The physical writing may not survive a tsunami, but your poems on the internet will survive not only in the ether but in the minds of those who have read them. I enjoy reading your road map and the words of your heart, something the virus can’t take away.
ReplyDeleteWe are not the first generation to be faced with major changes in our lives, and we have already adapted to some which, hopefully, will stop the virus in its tracks, as it needs us to self-perpetuate. I have resigned myself to existing in a smaller area, with fewer real humans, for the foreseeable future, although I am heartbroken that I can’t be with my daughter and grandson. I pray that there are enough like-minded people to make it work, to counteract climate change and pollution, and save animals. So many scary what-ifs, but we still have hope.
A lot of what if's? I like to think that we all leave an imprint in life as everything we touch leaves our DNA.
ReplyDeleteWhat if we conquer this virus and learn something to help us grow as humans in a spiritual and loving way?
I tend to lean on the positive side of the slope as I continue to hope for a better world even when the odds are against us.
Peace, hope and positive energy to you my friend.
Thank you, my friends, for your comments. True, I admire your striving for the positive. I did too till 2016. It has been a hard slog since, but there is always the potential for us to evolve as quickly as our evolution is needed and I do think the virus has shown us that choice very clearly.
ReplyDeleteWe live with so many 'what ifs'. Hope is difficult. I too get down into some despairing questions and it take me some effort to ascend. Wish I had some prophetic, hopeful, joyful words to respond to your poem, which is so honest and at the core so caring. I have no answers. Living with questions is all we can do now.
ReplyDeleteWhat if I wrote you a deep, philosophical, hopeful response to all your 'what ifs' and I accidentally erased them? What if you believed that I really had answers? What if we just say... its hard to be hopeful? Would all your questions be answered? No. But all questions are worth asking. I think your poem is so sincere and thought provoking.
ReplyDeleteDo you think it odd that of all these what ifs, it's the fate of the poetry that most moves me? That and the virus hitching a ride home. Living with the questions is the answer according to Rilke. And I agree, though I'm not sure we have time to live slowly into the answer. Or quickly, for that matter.
ReplyDeleteYes, that what if hangs over us like a sword... time to hug those we love, say our thank yous and sorrys and see how we can make a tiny difference....
ReplyDelete