Can you hear the trees?their gasps of grief
patterns of reach
extend
straining
for your
attention
the ground you walk
breathes
murmurs
pleads:
kin,
children,
beings,
this harm you bring
cannot offer
immortalization.
when the water becomes laced
with the septics;
the waste
of narcissistic incontinence;
in the violence;
the blooming wound
of the human wake
will you finally allow yourself
to face
the wretchedness
that has
befallen us.
when the beaches become
a procession:
the waves a mourning hymn;
requiem
for the dead
of the ocean
finally therein,
will you bring yourself to drink? to taste?
the fruits,
the remains,
of that which we are
and of that which we
are beholden.
will you finally admit that you are angry?
heartbroken
afraid
or will you remain muted
complacent
to your own pain
your own
destruction
can you hear the trees?look around
hold their gaze
do you not feel how deeply
you are loved by them.
do you not exist
because;
within;
and of;
in utter dependence;
salvation
to this utmost relation
of love?
do you not breathe?
bleed
hunger
thirst
is there not truth,
in your death,
in your living?
that you too, are of the trees,are of the earth.
tell me, friend,