Seeding our future (I originally posted this poem March, 08. It apparently is no longer available on Authorsden, so I am re-posting it.)

We know the very old story, that the Bible says is true ,
Of Noah’s animal inventory, from all the land in view.
He pulled them from the dells, by two’s from the plains,
Wherever fauna dwells, from forest and hill domains.

Brought them all together, loaded them on his ark —
Wise prescient bellwether — a floating zoological park.
To dire warnings paid heed, to save all from tragedy,
A barren earth to reseed, from lion to chickadee.

Global warming — threat exposed, extremes, the norm.
New pests disclosed, critical when crops are uniform,
World flora is passing extinct, fading at frightful pace,
We’ll be succinct — a threat to the human race.

For we’re losing every day, in drip, drip, drip manner,
In an unconscious way, under no unfurled banner.
Cultivars in disuse, excess specialization — injurious,
Gene splicing misuse, careless cloning — worry us.

Of all varieties cropped, three-quarters last century lost,
Of maize types dropped, since ‘30’s, 80 percent, the cost,
Of peas, 94 percent gone. Not seeds only to be stored:
Shoots, roots, scions that spawn, also to be harbored.

DNA must preserve, so calamity won’t leave us bereft,
Of genetics in food reserve, of seed strains still left.
Now a modern ark’s the host, fortress in Arctic cold,
Set below permafrost, content worth more than gold,

On Norwegian island north, Global Seed Vault unveiled,
Seed bank network gave forth, this flagship it sailed.
Descends some 500 feet, bomb blast, earthquake proof,
Automation controls heat. Security, no sham spoof,
Multiple codes to enter, and no one has them all,
A Fort Knox type center, missile silo type firewall.

Seed samples by the gross, brought in and packed,
From the world across, in neat gray packets stacked.
So some on the planet are waking, biosphere to preserve,
Some, progress are making, scarce resources to conserve.
We embrace this example, look down our road afar,
Real values not to trample, chasing our personal star.

© 2008 R. Leland Waldrip