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Posts Tagged ‘environment’

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thCAERWJ4R

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Hello, my friends,

is anyone there?

I need someone

to come repair

my shattered biosphere.

The ocean’s clogged

with plastic sludge,

the beach is cut

with broken glass,

my raging fever

melts the ice

and all the while

my insides churn

as ancient trees

are turned to tables,

wild creatures

robbed of fur

their heads mounted

on walls.

I sob aloud

and strain to breathe

the muddy air

my tears are lava

running through your villages

I’ve lost my balance

can’t control

the atmosphere

it spins and bawls

across the plains

I quake apart

your buildings fall

the dust roars through

our sacred land

my voice grows hoarse

but still I call out

desperately –

Can you hear me now?

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© 2013, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(Re-posted from 2013)

Image from “Bing” free art.

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IMG_4541

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I give my body

for your tables

and your chairs,

for bracelets

and for drums.

You hammer me

into your floors,

untie my shiny knots

beneath your feet.

Can you hear me whisper?

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My branches stretch

to stars and wind

and fold you close at night,

and in the dawn

you grind me

into sawdust

for your pathways

and your barns –

you dance a jig on me.

Can you hear me sigh?

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My leaves

suck the poison

from your air

and shield your faces

from the heat.

Then tenderly

they cover Earth

with patchwork colors

suckling winter into spring.

Can you hear me howl?

I am Tree.

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©  2012, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(re-post from 2012)

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A tree knows.

It knows the animal of time

that climbs up its trunk,

wrinkling hours into bark.

It knows that rain

falls between suns

and that baby birds

fly their nests

and return full of eggs.

A tree knows

that endings

swallow their own tails

to become tight brown nuggets

falling in circles,

flavoring earth with the future.

A tree knows.

And what it knows best

is to give.

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(c) 2003, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post, revised)

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When we raised our heads

the sky broke apart

and we saw God.

We stood on stilts

and remembered our names.

But then we saw gashes

in the garden below

and heel marks

from heavy boots.

We saw wolves and bears

pacing around us

watching our eyes

and we threw off our stilts

and danced around the fire

till Gaia was smooth and warm.

And in the circle of creatures

we remembered their names.

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(c)  1995,  2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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So, in Alaska it’s okay once again to murder wolves in their dens (even when they have pups), and to shoot bears from helicopters.

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I’m re-posting this old poem again, in protest of a recent decision by our new “leader”, and wondering what will be next. Backwards we go…..

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Hello, my friends,

are you there?

This is an emergency.

I need someone

to come repair

my shattered biosphere.

The ocean’s clogged

with plastic sludge,

the beach is cut

with broken glass,

my raging fever

melts the ice

and all the while

my insides churn

as ancient trees

are turned to tables,

wild creatures

robbed of fur

their heads mounted

on walls.

I sob aloud

and strain to breathe

the muddy air

my tears are lava

running through your villages

I’ve lost my balance

can’t control

the atmosphere

it spins and bawls

across the plains

I quake apart

your buildings fall

the dust roars through

our sacred land

my voice grows hoarse

but still I call out

desperately –

Can you hear me now?

 .

© 2013  Betty Hayes Albright

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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gaia_(mythology)

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thCAERWJ4RImage from Bing

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