The conundrum is that those in control continue to put profit (and their political careers) before the planet, short term wealth and power being more important to them than the long-term survival of all of earth’s living beings – even their own descendants. We are only too well aware of this progression, and where it leads. I have been thinking about our wild hearts, so attuned to the natural world we love, how they ache observing the accelerating climate crisis. This poem, written by our own Sarah Connor, who blogs at Sarah Writes Poems, resonates with where my thoughts are taking me in these days of love and consternation. That someone will be touchedīy our pale shadow, by the warm breeze of our lost breath. That someone will wonder who planted this tree, That the soil will take back the ones that fall, That a blackbird will peck the topmost apple, That the trees we plant will feed some future child, We bury our seeds deep in the winter soil. Slipping through time, trailing dreams and memories. To love the world enough, to seek outīeauty, to stand amazed. Let them sit with you, guests at your table. Is love and love is grief and there are not enough tears We are somewhere else now, a place where grief This is farįrom plastic webs and monster masks and eyeball candy. There are not enough tears.Īll Souls, and the priests bless the graves There are not enough tears to carry these boatsĭown the river to the sea. There are not enough tears to put out these fires. They are there, clamouring at the edge of the light –
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