This Is No Time to Make Things Pretty

 

This is no time to make things pretty:

the world is askew; democracy is in peril,

the climate crisis continues apace

and with so many crises, we feel overwhelmed.
Humans and other beings are trying to survive

bombs, displacement, starvation,

lack of every basic need.

This is not the time to write poems

about the sunshine and blue sky

out my window, the beauty of the harbour,

clouds wisping along the slopes

of Wah-nah-jus, waves calling to me

from Na-na-kwuu-a.

But, there are a few things my heart knows:

still and always, the mothering earth

under my feet grounds me, gives me

a place to stand, where I belong.

My head may be worrying about

another year of drought in a rainforest,

the way the world continues in denial

of what is surely to come, or that

some of our leaders are actually deranged.

Yet my heart still leaps at growing things

emerging from hard packed earth,

how they butt their heads through

the hard crust and

reach for the sun. We are excited, here,

to watch the rhododendrons bloom,

seeds in the seed trays

sprouting next fall's bounty.
Baby birds are chirping under the eaves.
Yesterday, my daughter saw one hop
from its nest, perch
on her porch railing, spread its wings,
and fly.

Miracles abound.

Humankind has lost its way.

Suffering on earth has reached critical mass.
Unkindness is shouted by
the leaders of the land.

And yet, here is Mother Earth,

in spite of us,

doing all she can, season after season,

year after year,

to keep us alive.

for my prompt at What's Going On ? Inspired by "This Is No Time to Make Things Pretty" by Maya Stein. The italicized line is taken from the title.