Mother Earth,
your clearcut slopes in winter
bleed mud and tears.
In summer,
wildfires roar across the land.
My cousin walks out at night
to embers falling
from an apocalyptic sky.
Grass crackles underfoot.
Water sources dry up.
Leaves on trees and bushes curl,
thirsty, as are all the wild ones
in this burning world.
bleed mud and tears.
In summer,
wildfires roar across the land.
My cousin walks out at night
to embers falling
from an apocalyptic sky.
Grass crackles underfoot.
Water sources dry up.
Leaves on trees and bushes curl,
thirsty, as are all the wild ones
in this burning world.
Down into the valley wander
displaced bear, cougar and wolf,
who are shot for intruding
into "our" territory,
though their perplexing plight is
how far we have encroached
into theirs.
And yet, life struggles on:
two baby orcas swim through warming seas,
where not enough salmon remain
to feed them. Like many
on this earth, their tummies
are never full,
yet they swim on,
in hope and trust,
for swim they must.
two baby orcas swim through warming seas,
where not enough salmon remain
to feed them. Like many
on this earth, their tummies
are never full,
yet they swim on,
in hope and trust,
for swim they must.
My heart is heavy
with how badly we have
ravaged you,
razed the beauty of your wild lands,
hunted to extinction
your beautiful wild creatures.
We have even endangered
the inoffensive butterfly.
What manner of species are we?
Yet the loons still sing softly at Loon Lake,
though algae, pollution and plastic
line its banks.
though algae, pollution and plastic
line its banks.
The trees still hopefully
bring forth their buds
and miraculous bounties,
the animals still try so hard to live,
no matter how badly
we have husbanded
the bountiful earth
that was given to us
with more than enough
to share,
if only we care.
if only we care.
Our souls know
we should be much better than we are.
The planet spins,
strangling in our emissions.
Our hearts grow as polluted
as the coral reefs, the fish in the sea,
the hunted whales,
the sky above the billowing
industrial smokestacks.
My heartsong is an elegy
all day long.
all day long.
Even as I watch the peaceful loons,
hear their beautiful and hopeful song,
in my heart, with pain,
I fear, already,
so many innocent lives
so many innocent lives
are going
going
gone.
for my prompt at What's Going On - Elegy.
I just watched a beautiful film by Jennifer Abbott titled The Magnitude of All Things, which records the grief of many, including her, across the world who see the impact of climate change on the natural world. Her sister's death from cancer opened her eyes to the grief of so many of us for the losses we bear witness to on a global scale. Nature and humanity are not in balance and the only ones who can change this are us. The more-than-human beings on earth are waiting for us to understand what they (and indigenous people of the earth) have always known - we are all connected. We share the grief and are not alone.
The message is actually hopeful because what we love, we try to save. And what we save, saves us.
I hear the heaviness in your heart in this poem, Sherry. We have ravaged Mother Earth unashamedly and continue to do so. The final stanza is heartbreaking.
ReplyDelete"yet they swim on,
ReplyDeletein hope and trust,
for swim they must." This is all we can do now. Your words are our Mother Earth's heartbeat, Sherry; beating in sadness, in hope, in fear. May we all unite and bring a smile to Her face. A deeply moving poem Sherry.
are going
ReplyDeletegoing
gone.
This really hit hard!
I really hope that Mother Nature will always find a way to prevail - beautifully and tenderly written - Jae
ReplyDeleteWhat manner of species are we? - that really is the question- how can self-destruct with so much thoughtlessness... I feel this poem and all the anxiety and despair in it...
ReplyDeleteI agree with Rajani: What manner of species are we? Flora and fauna are equally important but, without trees and other plants, there won’t be enough oxygen to keep the fauna alive, including humans. The image of Mother Earth bleeding mud and tears is powerful, as to the ‘embers falling from an apocalyptic sky’. Here in the UK we don’t have those extreme temperatures, but how long will it be before we do? Thankfully there are still birds in trees and fish in lakes and sea.
ReplyDelete"Like many
ReplyDeleteon this earth, their tummies
are never full,
yet they swim on . . . " You speak the truth from top to bottom of this beautiful poem. May your heart song give you some relief . . . the loons, remember!
A beautifully elegy, Sherry, that is yet hopeful that out of our mourning will come caring and that such hope is seen in the beautiful inhabitants of the wildlands themselves as they continue to live on, sharing their beauty and their melodies. Brilliantly composed.
ReplyDeleteWritten as only you could, Sherry. Filled with truth, beauty and sadness for the world and all its creatures. Yes, we know we should be better yet, we continue to stumble.
ReplyDeleteOur souls know
we should be much better than we are.
Gosh - the last verse really hit me hard. You describe the loss of the natural world due to human excesses so poignantly.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully written and from the heart.
ReplyDeleteThis so beautifully expresses the grief many of us feel about how we humans have been enemies of nature. Hurricane Beryl that just came through my area brought down so many trees. The woods behind my house is a sea of fallen trees.
ReplyDeleteNicely written and heartfelt.
ReplyDeleteThe words of your poem curl in my mouth as I read them. Your words bring tears and grief. How does anyone go on? annell
ReplyDeleteYou are the feminine version of Bruce Cockburn! (he will be 80 next year)
ReplyDelete