Mother Earth Speaks to Her Children on Earth Day April 2035

by Cathy Chesley

My darlings, tell me,

The reasons for this day.

I have given you many gifts.

Is it these you celebrate?

Such beauty as a drop of rain

Glistening in prismed light

Across Spring's fresh meadow

Wildflowers dancing with new life

Warmed by the sun

In fresh mountain streams

You have slaked your thirst,

Dreamed upon soft lambs' fleece

Your combines harvest golden grain

Waves upon waves in the West

While workers bend over ripened rice,

In steep green amphitheaters of the East

Oceans deep, blue and endless

Ancient coral reefs of Fairy Velvet

and Rose Rainbows, seahorses,

anemones, yellow boxfish, symbiotic

Twinkling gems of the Milky Way

North and South Aurora's radiant ribbons

Gentle night wind for sleeping,

The haunting call of the loon

And I have given you stories,

Of the steamy years, my cloak of green

Forests dark and dense, of greedy

Swampwalkers, now fossils buried beneath

Of how volcanic fires raged

Across my lands, then obscured

By the asteroid's deep darkness,

Yet, even then, I endured

You know my stories now

Thick-coated mastodons that once reigned

How my poles frozen in place

Through eons of cold I remain

I gave you Ovid, old and wise

His warnings of common interest lost

Save whatever is left from the flames

"We are lost in ancient chaos!"

I gave you, too, the Transcendentalist

Who warned that you seek of Nature

Only the sweet side, he said,

But not the bitter

And the Possum poet who spoke

Of nightingale cries, no one hears

In the desert, her language lost

"Jug-Jug to dirty ears"

Now honeybees suffer pestilence,

While babies wail for mothers' milk

Homes of rubble, lives of rubble

Fathers, brothers, lost in your wars, still

Now smog surrounds the mountain spruce

Yields rain acid, warming Alpine streams

While dark sludge oozes into my oceans

No whispered warnings heeded

Empty yet a-light all night,

Your city towers lure migrating geese

Sending them to their deaths

Far below upon hot, guttered streets

Lives built on plastic- toys, hot tubs,

Cool electric air in summer, grand SUV's,

Indoor spaces, stale and hot, drive-up coffee

Don't you see, you killing you slowly?

Through all time with vibrant,

Pulsating warp and weft, I wove

A grand The Tree of Life for you

Now my fibers wear thin, lose hold

Steadfast, I remain. But will you?

My darlings, tell me, "Where did I err? "

If I sing you one more lullaby,

Whisper one last prayer? Will you hear?