No future

Yesterday, I found this in a notebook I kept about a year ago.  Don’t even remember writing it.  Must have been half asleep at the time? Such a nightmare vision that, unfortunately, has the potential to become reality in the not-so-distant future.

I don’t want to live in a world
of survivalists sitting on their
porches with guns across their laps
ready to shoot starving refugees
escaping from urban horrors as the
forests and ice caps die.

I felt saddened by being the end
of the genetic line of my ancestral
forefathers and foremothers knowing
the line stops here with my children
and their choices not to reproduce
which at first felt overwhelming, bleak.

But now, I wouldn’t want any future
descendants living in the world we
have been actively creating for the
future, a world without diversity, and
without balance, and possibly, eventually
without even life.

I have a growing sense that it’s time
for the human race to put our affairs
in order and prepare for a desolate
future without us, a future that belongs
to only whatever survives the coming
mass extinctions.

I am glad my descendants won’t be here
to see the end.

Poem: The Leaf’s Glow

A Verbal Photograph by Debi
A single glowing leaf, somehow standing upright amid the other wet leaves on the path, needed to be recorded.  And I’d forgotten my camera.

wet leaves turn to darkness underfoot
even the sun can’t bring their colors to life
one leaf alone
standing upright between its darkened comrades
as a low winter sun beam
creates backlit beauty
of this leaf
this single leaf
this single autumn leaf
this single autumn fallen leaf
alive on the path
vibrant glowing radiant
stand tall small leaf
catch the sun and don’t let go
as you stand fearlessly
above the densely trodden crowd
your true nature is revealed
the world needs your beauty
in this dark time
on the cusp of winter

Poem: Nature’s Beauty

Cento (collage poem)

Source Text: The Outdoor Life of Children

O, student of Society and History,

we were all meant to be naturalists,

each in his degree.

It is inexcusable to live in a world

so full of marvels,

of plant and animal life,

and to care for none of these.

Consider the lilies of the field

the fowls of the air.

Things worth observing —

to be watched from day to day:

— the departure and return of the birds with the season

— the portly form and spotted breast of the thrush

— a jay flying across a field

— the graceful flight of the swallow

— the yellow bill of the blackbird

— the gush of song which the skylark pours from above

while perching in a tree.

Make the acquaintance of a wild flower —

every common miracle

in all its fairy beauty.

Observe the wood and pith in the hazel twig

— the downy catkins of the willow

— the flower comes, each shut up in the dainty casket we call a bud

— the little ruby-eyed pistil late-flowers of the hazel

— leaves, branches, bark, trunk of trees.

Every plant bears fruit,

fruit and seed after his kind.

Nature —

the Divine thought

the mystery of beauty

Poem: Wonder and Admire

lilyCento (collage poem)

Source Text: The Outdoor Life of Children

Wonder and admire —

Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow,

from the ploughing of the land

to the getting of the crops.

By-and-by there is fruit.

Meadow and pasture,

clover, turnip, and corn field.

Some lovely flower or gracious tree,

the movement of branches,

shadows of boughs making patterns

on the white tablecloth.

Hum of bees.

Shines forth the blushing flower

to blossom —

to germinate —

to bear fruit —

Milkwort, eyebright, rest-harrow, lady’s bedstraw,

willow-herb, every wild flower.

Break off an elder twig in the spring

— describe the leaf

— the manner of flowering

— the dangling catkins

— rough or smooth leaves

— rough or smooth bark

Stare up into a tree or down into a flower

to see

the sublime

tender and living sculpture.