Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Snow lies thick, burying the world beneath
a temporary shroud of choking white.
Nature tries her best to speak a language her children
will hear and understand-
a desperate call to free her people
from the effects of time
and wake them
from their own careless pursuit of satiation.
Slowly, softly but waste no more breath
for the pressure grows intense,
melting and swirling,
and all her children must work as one:
their fingers in dirt,
hearts in their work,
hope carried in streams of water.
She stretches her hands,
and speaks deep as thunder,
bright as sun,
old as roots and gentle as rain-
Please my daughter,
tell them something true
tell them till they heed:
swiftly must they begin
and swiftly must they find
a way to heal the earth
that in turn will heal the skies.
And time, little one,
is not on their side.
Posted by Jamie at 8:00 AM