We heard him. He’d said,
The river has fled
out the hill to the high desert valley.
And, yes, it ran, laughing
while cows went on calving
and hawks tied neat ribbons of sky.
We watched how it knew
how to grow. Yes, it grew
new springs hitching their way
along in its currents.
Then, with some brief torrents,
the river spilled into the bay.
With strong churning motion,
the bay mixed with ocean –
debris frothing the sky.
(Now, if butterfly wings
topple kingdoms and kings
by mere beating, how so you and I?)
Through winter, spring, summer
then fall, with its drummer
of steady days beaten in time,
we showed how adroit
was our craft to exploit
all the land – well, it wasn’t a crime.
While seasons kept passing,
we all kept amassing.
Business was up – that’s for sure.
turned to groans in the skies,
the green land and the sea’s abstruse floor.
Still, most of us folks
kept things light with our jokes
like, “Those ‘green’ folks clearly are cracked!”
And, “We have rights, too.”
So, we scoffed and said, “Pooh!”
to those nuts who said earth’s getting wrecked.
We heard him. He huffed,
The river’s been snuffed!
And, true, not enough of us cared.
But our reasons were sound
so we all stood our ground
and refused to get wobbly and scared.
Then little by little,
the green land turned brittle,
the waters turned rotten and cruel.
Complainers kept judging
but we’d do no budging
no matter how loud they’d all growl.
We heard the old man
when he said, We must plan
for our future before it’s too late!
But, we kept to our tasks
and (if anyone asks)
we all died. It must have been fate.
© Copyright 2007 Susan M. Botich