inconsolably
atop a pile of
hewn trees
His pitiful chirp
pained my heart
so I told the
little wren not to fret
and pointed to a
veridian grove
of trees still standing
I wondered aloud
at the many nests
and habitats lost
to lust for wealth and power
O Mother Earth!
When will we realize our
profoundly intimate connection?
We are exhilarating
beauty of a butterfly
enchanting tune
of the sky lark
We are wind,
all the natural elements
thundering, booming in fury
We are gentle billows
sighing, singing, smiling in
peaceful melodious harmony
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