The jays chatter on my balcony,
squawking over seed, as if this life will go on forever,
and the seed will always be there.
This is hope during the apocalypse.
Somewhere wildfires are burning;
animals fleeing in wild distress.
Those fighting the flames
can hear their screams.
I walk into the forest: coolness, peace,
sunlight slanting through the branches,
everything green, green, green:
leafy breath and human sigh.
This is relief and comfort
during the apocalypse.
The anti-vaxxers and anti-maskers
are protesting outside the hospital.
Uttering profanities,
they block an ambulance from
delivering its patient.
They spit at a nurse going to work
(to save the unvaccinated
dying of covid inside.)
This is entitlement and disrespect
- to the max -
during the apocalypse.
At the CoOp, we catch each other's glance
above our masks; we nod;
our eyes smile. We do not speak,
our words too muffled. But there is not one person
without a mask. This is solidarity, this is a community
caring for each other, during the apocalypse.
It feels like a large segment of the population
is experiencing a psychotic break, convinced
by fake news that reality is fake
and fake news is real.
"Communist news!" they jeer
at the free press. My mind boggles
at the depth of the rabbit hole
we have fallen into.
If the Mad Hatter pours me some tea,
it will be no stranger than what
is on my tv screen.
The sandy beach stretches ahead
as it always has; the waves surge to and fro,
they ebb and flow, in their eternal dance.
This is my moment out of time,
my walking meditation, like
Thay in Plum Village:
with this step, I breathe in calmness,
with this step, I breathe out peace.
"I kiss the earth with my foot."
This is survival. This is
trust in the Big Picture, and in
Mother Earth's ability to survive.
This is me, trying to survive, myself,
to stay steady, to withstand. This is me,
holding onto hope,
dreaming in green
during the apocalypse.
Inspired by the amazing poem "Surviving the Apocalypse", written by 15 year old Nina Evans, a prompt for Wild Writing by Laurie Wagner. Sharing with earthweal's open link.
This is a wonderful poem Sherry. As upset as we are with mankind’s disrespect for our planet, it is imperative that we continue to love this earth and accept its beauty for what it is and what it means to us. I loved your ‘walking meditation reference. I too walk many miles a week to feel,at peace ☺️💕
ReplyDeleteA heartwrenching read - the wonderful contrast of the peace and the chaos, the beauty and the apocalypse. If only the tangle could be untangled.
ReplyDeleteThis is US, you are not alone!
ReplyDeleteI can really identify with the feelings you describe here Sherry. I read about people being trapped in their homes by floodwater, then I climb a mountain where the earth still feels safe, and find some peace. But this storm will be a long time passing, and we will all be affected.
ReplyDeleteI would like to have hope...but these loonies all over the world putting everyone in danger by not wearing masks
ReplyDeleteand not getting vaccoinated is alarming
We need a miracle...here's hoping and praying ! Stay safe...keep absorbing the magic and loveliness of the natural world which is all about us.
Oh this poem is wonderful Sherry, and just want I needed this morning.
ReplyDeleteTo "dream in green" "during the apocalypse" is the odd temper and meter of the time -- the paradox of beauty and awfulness drawn out to such extremes. And the human community, its like a family where half reach out to help and the other drink themselves to death. This is our world too. Great response to it all, Sherry, still finding hope.
ReplyDelete"This is survival. This is
ReplyDeletetrust in the Big Picture, and in
Mother Earth's ability to survive."---I have deep faith in this.