She weeps in devastation

She weeps in devastation. 

You can hear her wail in the wind. 

Her anguish rains down in ashes—can you feel it, child? 

Can you taste her pain upon your tongue? 

Wake up, child. Do not sit there dumbfounded as black fumes clog the throat of heaven.

Get on your knees, child. Pray for forgiveness. 

Turn your black heart gold and the sacred forest green; 

pray for your children who have inherited this. 

She weeps in devastation. 

Fat tears flowing with acidity, 

people’s homes washed away in biblical flooding; 

these are biblical times: AD 2023. 

Her foliage of hair shorn, her green stems punctured, spurting sadness— 

Would you care for her, child, if you could see her as I do? 

If you could see her in her handkerchief, suffering Stage IV Inaction? 

You have let this happen, child. You have grown old at the expense of your home.

Paper bills and coins will not cover the cost of destruction; 

your money will disintegrate into warm, murky water. 

What will you do then? 

You are feeding the people coal. 

You are giving them glasses of oil. 

A little bird screams “Mur-der.” “Mur-der mur-der mur-der!” 

You turn your back to the bird and hire a lawyer.

She weeps in devastation. 

Her anger singes the grasses in fierce columns of flame. 

The people are hungry. 

Skinny legs splayed on dusty earth, wild eyes pleading for reprieve– do you see them, child?

Do you see the homes collapsing like dominoes–don’t you try to wash away your worry with

wine or promise technology– get on your knees. Kneel on the earth in your bare feet. Child,

you can help us all. 

This world has taught you that you must win to survive, you must be ahead to be alive, but it isn’t true. It’s all 

lies, 

lies, 

lies. 

Child, do you hear her cry? 

Do you know that her soul is now the color of the sky? 

It’s up to you. 

Her pain is crackling dry grass, searing holes in the map— 

Child, she wishes it were a dream too. 

But you cannot say it isn’t real 

if you are human enough to feel 

the heat of a fatal fever upon you. 

She weeps in devastation. 

Wildfires burning wildflowers, 

watercolors bleeding, 

the people aren’t breathing. 

The people, her children, are living on land that is sinking 

The people, her children will not stop believing 

that there is something that we can all do.

She weeps in devastation. 

Child, dry her tears with your hands. 

Stand up and chant: The people united will never be defeated; 

put your money into mouths, resurrect homes from the ground, we can do this.

If you believe that we can’t, her rage will swallow you whole, 

the despair will kill us all and 

I mean that. 

She weeps in devastation. 

Child, do you understand? 

We can grow seeds of change and water them with our faith, 

and 

all through it all, we must dance.

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