Seeding Life With Death
by Odin odin@aflx.com — Read all 3,869 poems by Odin odin@aflx.com
Reading the world news, one is struck with how patiently Man awaits each new season for planting and irrigating both life and death. Makes one wonder why we choose administrations who opt to always remain on the brink of… (Image by DeviantArt)
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
Seeding Life With Death
By Odin Roark
Somewhere…
Throughout the night
maintenance plumbing
sprinkles roots to spawn further,
their call of duty,
arcing the flowers to be
from parched lawn that was.
In a different time zone,
thousands of mind-miles eastward,
bombs and tracer-glow arc a different earth,
arid with history’s human mulch
filling lungs with particles.
dust of bones and flesh
feeding but poisonous irrigation for lifetimes.
While in the gilded landscapes of the 1%,
untainted seeds drink of cool water running freely,
sprinkling the most pampered lawns on earth.
How sad,
this thing called war,
where daily attention of its corroded roots
seep ever deeper into the erosion,
cycling seeds of hatred and ignorance,
cultivating more perpetuated habit,
making yesterday’s season of life
a mere pause for tomorrow’s death.
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I do not have the exact figures, but I believe war in ancient times literally kept the population from growing, along with disease and starvation.
But something happened in the 20th century with its great loss of life in war that changed the picture. Wars no longer claim the millions they did in the past. Disease is killing fewer and fewer people every year, and we are gradually feeding those that routinely starved to death.
The resulting population explosion is far greater than predicted by Paul Ehrlich in 1968 and, among some other nasty things, poses the greatest threat to our survival. In fact, it is this burgeoning population, more mobile than ever before, that may bring us the war of all wars and truly decimate us as human beings on this planet.
Ron
"Making yesterday's season of life
a mere waiting game for tomorrow's death."
Isn't that the truth. John
Love ya!
Jane