The Fight Back

Where are the showers? 

Where is the dew, 

That should be greening the fields? 

The rains should be here

A good month since or more. 

Why is it not raining? 

We should be looking forward

to the harvest already, or

turning the soft loamy earth,

planting seeds, and

tending the shoots.

Instead, we are trapped

in this rainlessness,

this heat, and lifeless brown. 

  

Where is the new grass?

that should be returning the cows, 

to health and freshness?

Delighting the sheep and the goats?

It is no longer lateness

when the fields are brown in June.

It is not a lateness of the rains, 

When the stream is dry in August 

It is the fightback,

The revolt of an ailing Earth. 

The rainmaker is sick;

exhausted from our plunder,

and our exploitation,

from all our gnawing,

burning,

breaking, 

pumping,

dumping…

From all of our greed.

From all of our poison! 

Droughts where once were floods

Floods where once were droughts

Dead trees,

Dead rivers,

Dead elephants,

Dead donkeys,

Dead butterflies

and soon, dead men!

A just retribution. 

 

 Man!

Come to your senses,

Stem the abuse, 

Curb your appetite, 

or face your end!