The Poetry In Me.....

I Hear Her Weeping

i lay among the untethered grasses.
the heat of the earth against my back.
she cries to me in a galactic pain,
"what have you wrought upon my soil?"
she is burdened by the history of mankind
and with each evolution of mind,
she weakens.
scratched by aged ice and snow,
she slept the long sleep,
awaking yet again to new faces
and to a change that would not mar her beauty.
silently she stood by
as another surge of evolution began.
creatures of land and of sea
reaching a pinnacle of their time.
and low a greatness plummeted from the heavens,
carrying with it a death so great.
depleting the life she held.
plunged into darkness once more,
another 11th hour she became.
sleep, sleep great beauty
for your time will shine again.
and the sun, still the creator of time.
broke through the waste and dust
kissing again the earth so fine
bringing the sleeping beauty to light.
a dawn of her cycle,
clinging to a new age.
this time a being so grand
fell from the trees that covered her so.
their childish fear overcome by curiousness.
a vast kingdom at their dispose.
their evolution at hand.
anything was possible.
these humble creatures were grateful
and praised the earth for her bounty.
gathering, slaying for survival,
they congregated and became of one kind,
dominating the landscape,
using her potential.
with bounty came a new face
the earth had never seen.
one no creature before had ever held.
a power so small, yet so forceful.
the power of thought and reason.
she watched in silence and in awe
as this small and insignificant grew.
their evolution flowed rapid like a great river.
she knew knowledge was their key
and with this knowledge they learned to survive
the long sleeps.
the ice and snow came and went
and this creature had not gone with it.
ever watchful now, she realized
that they were strong enough to surpass
some of her powers to cleanse.
like the grains they gathered,
they multiplied.
they traversed the land
leaving in their wake the scars and footprints.
in their 11th hour, the point of another emergence,
they changed.
becoming something beyond guardians of the cycle.
they blossomed into kingdoms.
nations formed and divisions set
lines across her great divide
and she was forgotten and unkept.
they found a new consciousness,
one of greed.
each nation hording what they reaped
and for the first time in her life
the earth wept raw.
not for the carelessness and greed
of this species,
but for something greater...
she wept for the vision of her own death.
the earth trembled in this new age.
war swept her surface like a plague.
the nations killed each other,
a sport of sorts,
no longer satisfied with just surviving.
their arrogance flowed from them
harming all it touched.
in this time,
pure knowledge still grew.
it was of an age gone by.
the enlightened ones still stirred among them.
nation mortality lengthened
and another dawn appeared.
out of sheer need
mechanised, sterilized, synthesized.
the nations pushed the boundaries
expanded to new worlds
and gave birth to pollutants
of the pure aerial ocean.
with knowledge comes consequence
and despite the warning signs,
the nations forged ahead
raping the earth of her beauty and gifts.
their was no reverence as before,
no homage paid.
an arian conscious came into being.
one of self-preservation and hunger.
gone is the day of whimsical cloudless skies,
gone is the day of pure sweet air to breathe,
gone is the day of serene tranquility.
the new animal stalled the earth,
one of hatred, greed and fear.
so strong was this new creature
that even the earth's cries went unheard.
slowly, she felt a weakening
and the power to rise and continue
drained from her.
the death of the earth began.
agonized with storms of destruction.
vengeful with rains of acid
and funnels of chaos.
waters swelled and the comfort of earth
began to change.
in her painstaking death throws,
she warns us of her ending.
do we heed her message?
do we hear her voice?
have we forsaken our roots, our birth?
the greed of a once so humbled creature
has morphed into a god-like arrogance.
the material struggle in the blindness
of what is truly needed has become
poisoned and clouded like the sky.
the exhaustion of the gifts she gave
leaves us not hollow or ashamed,
but rather only hungered.
so as i lay among the untethered grasses
i feel the earth's tears,
i hear her weeping,
i see her sorrow
and i join her in her pain.
i feel the heat of the earth against my back.

el (santi)