Monday, May 30, 2011

A Very Rough Draft

What I fear is the Earth is burning,
not from ozone or sin,
or drought or flame or storm,
or lightening shooting
sky in its artery, but us
stoking hatred and lies.

No, I do not fear Mount Vesuvius,
or Hades again unleashed,
or Poseidon hurling a furious fork or
Satan laughing like lava.  I fear
the Earth is burning.

I fear, although I am told,
all things come from a place of love,
or else they come from fear.
But what if I fear from love?

What if I fear our fear
will murder logic and heart,
suck our veins dry of mercy,
leaving the good to rot?

What if all of our oceans
are dumped with the blood of the world,
all of our lakes polluted
with human beings at their worst?

I fear the Earth is burning.
I carry a flask in my boat.
I move in slow motion always,
I paddle into the sun.
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