Coming of the Overman

Jan. 22, 2011

What have we done to this fair and lovely world?

Consuming hatred, inconceivable greed

Have blinded us to beauty and the truth

That calls to us from inner depths to see

That what is now shall soon no longer be.

Earth’s revolt is certain and has begun.

Still, the nuthatch in the ancient oak

Presses a seed within the furrowed bark

And, upside down, enjoys his tender meal.

The robins listen with an amplified ear

To catch the lowly worm at work in earth.

I watch the stalking heron on still legs,

No move betrays his silent lethal skill,

The hawks on updrafts circle round the sky

With eyes evolved beyond our human sight.

All seems idyllic and in balance held

Until we witness the unspeakable acts

Of man in his misuse of a sacred trust.

In India detritus lines the streets,

Paper waste and plastic the Mother’s body

Despoil and rampant pollution threatens lives.

In other countries people cannot breathe,

So foul the air a thin miasma creeps

Into the lungs as a toxic yellow fog

And oil spills foul the oceans of the world.

When shall we wake from somnolence to change,

Recover joy in the simple and unique.

We must undo the damage we have wreaked

Or earth will overturn the life of man,

Heal her wounds, annihilate the foe

And wait the coming of the Overman.