Icy nights
Stifling morns
Melting ice
Years of warns
Fires, floods
Hurricanes
Sliding mud
Bone-dry plains
Rising seas
Aftershocks
Famine, disease
Pandora’s box
And at root
All along
The iron boot
Of all gone wrong
Great enemy
Of water, air
Of land, of sea
Of elk, of bear
Of fish and fowl
Of oak and pine
Of hawk and owl
Of twig of vine
Of cloud and rain
Of ice and snow
Of mountain chain
Of fjord and floe
Of all that’s green
And by sun kissed
Of grain and bean
And morning mist
What have we wrought
For money done?
What ruin brought
What web now spun
Sit back in thought
At what we’ve done
Yet doing nought
To make undone
A century on
How will it be?
When much is gone
Imagine please
What will we breathe?
What will we drink?
What will we eat?
Just stop and think
Stop and think.
* * * * * * * *
And…will we
The wrecking ball
Even be?
Or…
Be missed at all?
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This is why our children have decided not to have children.
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And it’s an act of mercy. Stay well Peggy, continue…
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With this metaphor, you have found the objective correlative of where were are right now (and into the future, it would appear):
The iron boot
Of all gone wrong.
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The tropes “Democracy” and “Freedom” are being assailed by the very people who are being cynically used by The Money – and who are defending their abusers. It is too surreal to contemplate. In all events, stay well. Thanks, continue…
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And the rest of us are left with cognitive dissonance on steroids.
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Amen girrrl. continue…
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Sobering and painful beyond words.
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Susan, at this point in human history, and having a cosmic view of life, i feel as if i am watching a farce. i can’t help but be cosmically amused at the missed cues, slammed doors and pratfalls. Thanks, continue…
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