The environment is deteriorating, animals are left homeless, vegetation is disappearing.
This poem is a response to the difficult times the earth is enmeshed in.
shimmering auroras, a dancing curtain of
violet hues. that once glinted off a pristine sheet
of ice, that now glint off waves of water. that once
brought warmth to a glacial landscape, that now
pirouette in a melting backdrop, shards of ice rolling
like butter under feet. heat rising to the heavens,
sheets of ice becoming fragments, water rising.
twinkling stars, pure, celestial light. that once
brought rays, symbols of hope to lone wanderers,
lost among verdant trees and fronds that waltzed
on sparkling ponds. dots of glitter that now hide
behind smoke coiling from a million houses, behind
strata of suffocation, behind decades of negligence. that
shine to fallen trees, illnesses, an endless torrent of noise.
meteor showers, flickering orbs of fire that provided rare,
ephemeral beauty to gazing animals. shooting
across the dusky sky, a crepuscular show. spheres that now
perform before acres of cement, before humans that never
come out, the animals having departed. departed to
the chasm of death, to the endless expanse of seclusion,
to the boundaries of unforgiving hamlets, cities, nations.
galaxies once shone, an astral orchestra. rising upwards,
ending at infinity. that now watch the earth melt, its greenery
fading, falling prey to the noose of urban civilization. that
watch oil corrupt the earth’s oceans, fish become
motionless grains of rice. animals beseeching the
immaculate heavens for help, begging to be taken to
a place where mankind doesn’t exist. to a place where
trees are not razed, where their moans of agony can
be heard, where the grieving of a mother whose cub was
killed to smoke stirs emotion. where the skies and oceans retain
their original hue, where seas are not bloody due to
foul liquids sloshing in. where blazing fires are conjured
to provide heat to shivering creatures on a frosty day,
and not to burn mountains of litter, debris on a
sweltering winter noon. where illumination arises
from the heavens, and not from the winking lights of
urbanization; where the melodies from the stars can be
discerned in all their purity. no hope in humanity. for
ever since the animals’ conception, ever since their
birth—they’ve been crying to the galaxies, to the universe,
to save their only earth.