The thing that is needed
is for everyone
to roll up their proverbial sleeves
(hemp not cotton, please)
hold our eyes to the wound –
none of this looking down or to the side –
and push, push hard
into the gaping lesion,
listening all the time
to the whispers of the earth.
Place your hand into that polluted fissure
feel the pain
feel the lament of extinction
feel the grasses replaced by weeds
the trees replaced with wheat
the soil replaced with sludge
the wetlands now dry
the forests now roads
the rivers now sewers
the ocean now a collector of plastic…
And believe, you doubters, believe!
It appears it is only when our fingers
encounter the relentless damage
that our kind can cast aside
The cloak of doubt and believe.
We did this.
We strung this sacred planet up.
We sought Calvary not restoration,
greed not mutual benefit.
Can we lay down our doubt, then
and believe that the earth is dying
and will be reborn
but that we…we will not be so lucky.
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