Starry Night Over the Rhone
Van Gogh
In the old growth forest,
listen well.
Can you feel
the desperate beauty
of trees being all that they are
as the chainsaws and grapple-yarders
come ever closer?
listen well.
Can you feel
the desperate beauty
of trees being all that they are
as the chainsaws and grapple-yarders
come ever closer?
Wolves and bears,
amble through the woods
and out onto the commons
- coats glossy, eyes bright
with the desperate hope
of tomorrows that
may never come -
because we took their habitat
and they have stumbled into
what was never
ours.
amble through the woods
and out onto the commons
- coats glossy, eyes bright
with the desperate hope
of tomorrows that
may never come -
because we took their habitat
and they have stumbled into
what was never
ours.
Everywhere I look
seems beautiful and doomed.
Everything appears to be
pulsating with
the fear of being gone.
It feels, to me,
some days,
like everything
is saying one last long
goobye.
seems beautiful and doomed.
Everything appears to be
pulsating with
the fear of being gone.
It feels, to me,
some days,
like everything
is saying one last long
goobye.
for Brendan at Desperate Poets where we contemplate Van Gogh, and desperate beauty.
It can certainly seem that way, and yet nature is amazingly resilient given half a chance.
ReplyDeleteYou express the beauty of nature but, also the desperation for survival.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful and doomed indeed... the reluctance to shut off fossil fuel is baffling- it does seem very, very bleak.
ReplyDeleteTo say that beauty is desperate is to set the presence of it on a cliff, which you do so sharply yet sweetly here. Siege machines crush the serene green world. A hauntingly sad poem here, Sherry.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful and yet doomed. Such a sad fate. And yes, so much seems to be sayig good-bye.
ReplyDeleteThe deep beauty of nature is strong, but the way it is built of a million little things makes it fragile, too, as you so eloquently show us, Sherry. I take comfort from the idea that every ending is the beginning of something else.
ReplyDeleteOh dear. I feel your sadness in every word of this poem. It is so sad to hear of the state of these old growth trees. They talk to us of ancient times and ways now disappearing too fast. Suzanne - Wayfaring.
ReplyDeleteEloquent and sad Sherry. Particularly the verse about the bears, it brings the scene to life...JIM
ReplyDeletewe have to find the beauty in fire, because it seems that is our future. so fire beings, we will become ~
ReplyDelete