Writing inspired by this collage picture.
The day the Earth cried
The Earth cried the day the mist set in.
The grey fine mist had ever so slowly and incrementally, seeped unseen and unacknowledged into every nook and cranny of existence.
The beautiful sunrises and sunsets,
The pale blue skies,
The turquoise seas, and
Green lush forests slowly being replaced by grey.
Sunrises seen through view finders, and unappreciated in the rush to take a picture to share on facebook.The grey fine mist had ever so slowly and incrementally, seeped unseen and unacknowledged into every nook and cranny of existence.
The beautiful sunrises and sunsets,
The pale blue skies,
The turquoise seas, and
Green lush forests slowly being replaced by grey.
Sunsets ignored behind closed curtains in the desire to watch the latest box set on TV.
Blue skies taken for granted, despite humanity spending more time flying through its very heart.
Turquoise seas filled with 'stuff'' now required for existence.
Green lush forests bulldozered to sustain the ever faster and increasing pace of life.
Earth herself relegated to being a means to an end, and not the end itself. However much she wished for us to notice and engage in her beauty. However much humanities soul cried out for such connection, and however much individuals' bodies reacted to that separation.
The earth cried as all she could do was watch the decent of all those she loved. Unable to take any proaction to stop that decent. Unwilling to turn away, and yet heartbroken with what she saw. Optimistic with every new sunrise that this would be the day the mist would start to recede, and crest fallen with every sunset that the opportunity had been missed.
Earth herself relegated to being a means to an end, and not the end itself. However much she wished for us to notice and engage in her beauty. However much humanities soul cried out for such connection, and however much individuals' bodies reacted to that separation.
The earth cried as all she could do was watch the decent of all those she loved. Unable to take any proaction to stop that decent. Unwilling to turn away, and yet heartbroken with what she saw. Optimistic with every new sunrise that this would be the day the mist would start to recede, and crest fallen with every sunset that the opportunity had been missed.
The earth still cries - can you hear her?
Alison Smith
Landscaping Your Life
Using nature to inspire change inside and out
Whilst not my normal means of communication other stories/poems written include The wave and The tortoise and the hare.
Alison Smith
Landscaping Your Life
Using nature to inspire change inside and out
Whilst not my normal means of communication other stories/poems written include The wave and The tortoise and the hare.
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