Archive
09/24/10 - (4)
Not So Silent Springs
Change is a privilege and a gift, a sacred rite of propitiation, As well as a chilling responsibility, Which nature bestows on her most ardent devotees, Those who choose, of their own unadulterated volition, To spend their vital time worshiping her muses — Quietude, solitude, pulchritude — And communing with the inner life of her silences and privacies.
And it's incumbent upon us who love the outdoors, Its fragile, complex network of flora and fauna, Which depends, independently, communally, symbiotically, On unpolluted sunrises, moon blooms, wind, rain, streams, soil, Eschews desecrations by rapacious human beings, Who would subdue its very perpetuation, For their own selfish, egotistical, materialistic machinations...
Incumbent upon us to protect our precious ecosystems From changes that can decimate their destiny, Threats emanating from synthetic, noxious, toxic concoctions — Arsenical hydrocarbons (DDT, chlordane, malathion), Industrial effluents, and radioactive atomic waste, Arising from violating the universe's basic building blocks, From which all life begins, in a matter of accidental designs.
Contemplating the lethal consequences death provides mankind — Its premier selection of primal poisons — I vow, loudly, as one minuscule voice in an indifferent world, To do what I can, when I walk the streets, hike the woods, To pick up fast-food wrappers, cigarette packs, beer bottles. After all, what little change I make could be monumental In saving the planet, even for a day, an hour, a moment.
09/24/10 - (4)
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