This Is What the Heart Does

This is what the heart does: it hopes -

that everything will be all right,

no matter how impossible that feels 

right now; that light will banish darkness,

love erase hate; that compassion and insight 

will walk the halls of power with kind

- not killing - eyes.

The heart wants what it wants:

a happy ending. Even better,

a happy beginning, and a smooth road

ahead. My eyes are too old

for fairy tales. It is two days till Earth Day,

and they say they can't plant trees fast enough

to make climate deadlines. They need
thirty extra years that
we don't have. The trees can't

grow fast enough to absorb the carbon.

And I wait to hear - but never hear -

that we need to curb emissions now. Because

that won't bring in enough votes,

even though people and animals

are dying, being displaced, suffering

in floods, and drought, and wildfires.
Even though climate refugees
- with and without fur -
are everywhere, and one day
it will be us.

How is it that every poem I begin

winds up being about earth's struggle

to survive with too many of us on it?

Am I hoping someone will hear

who will raise the alarm in a way

that will galvanize world leaders,

finally, to act?

This is what the heart does:

it hopes. 

This poem was inspired by the title of a poem by Jessica Lee: What the Heart Does. Happy Birthday, Mother Earth. And, hopefully, many more.