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Tending the Garden

Tending the Garden

In the articulation of snowflakes
the sun is never shamed;
compelled, the moon makes no excuses for her brilliant
display of turning towards and away,
her silver ballgown, slivers of reflection on
the open sea

there is a gift the willow gives,
her long tender tendrils floating in the breeze,
bidding you "come",
shadows make strange noises creaking along winding
creeks,
wildflowers burst into glory,
here and there,
shouting "here I am".
This is the world that sings.
This is the world man can not create but
destroys with dollar signs and these are
the signs of the time.

Every sentient being bears responsibility
for what is and should another species perish
we have no one else to blame. It happened on
our watch.

Last few words: 
Please do not allow y/our government to relax/remove its conservation laws protecting the land, the water and the air. Survival, including our own, depends on the natural resources the earth provides in abundance, freely. If there is such a thing as a sin, it first shows itself in how we caregive our planet and each other, the flora and fauna, the air and water, Mother Earth herself. It is unpardonable and without conscience for American/European interests to to create water/energy companies and then demand the indigenous people to pay for these services they are unable to.
Editing stage: 

Comments

Thanks for this poem and your after thoughts in "last few words". I agree with you on all points and so does my state representative.

I loved the beautiful dream like start to this piece. And the necessary slap in the face awakening at the end:

This is the world that sings.
This is the world man can not create but
destroys with dollar signs and these are
the signs of the time.

always, Cat

When you fling poo, some of the stink sticks to you!

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