So I just saw an offering of an environmental poem by ANxxxxxxUs that received mixed revues.
Still, the idea of environmental poetry is something that engages me, so I will offer the following, which is dedicated to the eco-warriors who protest, demonstrate and try to raise our awareness of the peril to our world.
It can often be a lonely struggle, but for this there is solace . . .
Emerald Heart
Deep within the storied wood there lies a glade,
Of oak and alder and therein a pool,
Beneath whose quiet depths there rests a jewel,
Of wondrous green that ne’er with time may fade.
‘Tis said that if within this sacred bower,
Upon that mirrored pond should fall a tear,
Pressed forth from heart beset by grief and fear,
Then from those depths shall rise compassion’s power,
The heart of Her who lives in rock and tree,
Whose breath bears birdsong o’er the verdant plain,
Whose soul gives life to flesh through passion’s flame,
Whose blood flows as the waters to the sea,
Shall open there and soothing comfort give.
Once came I, a wraith pursued in sorry flight,
By scene of clearcut hill and poisoned stream,
Where eagle wept and toxin killed the Red Man’s dream,
And neon noise devoured the solace of the night,
Far into the threatened wood I plunged me deep,
To heal my heart with balm of cherished green,
To yearn a while with dreams that might have been,
Perhaps no more to fight, perhaps to sleep.
I came into that hushed and shadowed scene,
Before a pool upon whose quiet face,
Were mirrored leaf and fern and dappled light did trace,
Their forms in patterns of most perfect green,
And as I knelt in silent awe, I wept.
Scarce had one troubled tear the placid surface met,
There came a hush and light from deep below,
Suffused the scene with green that seemed to flow,
Into each leaf and branch and gorge them greener yet,
Then with the softness of a sigh there rose a gentle air,
That sang of quiet loam and how the leaves unfold,
Of sunlight on a dew-bless’d bud and what our hearts behold,
"Why weep you warrior?" spoke Her voice, "And in this place so fair?"
I weep, oh Lady, for this sacred glade,
For rivers proud where salmon once leapt free,
Now choked by silt and ash and corpse of tree,
To know this too shall pass beneath the blade,
Are heart and will and love of no avail?
"While yet one heart bears love of grove and tree,
Though torn my breast and savage be my pain,
From this green place life’s song may rise again,
This is the refuge of your heart that lives in me,
"In cold, you kept lone company with stars,
To stand between the steel and threatened green,
Forsaking love and warmth that might have been,
A tale oft told: bullhorns, gray walls and bars.
"If ever on your struggle goes, then know,
New seeds will mock the razers of the grove,
And in this place I’ll whisper you my love,
Here hope and strength and balm of green bestow,
So oft you come to rest and dwell within. . .
My Emerald Heart.