Promises

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Promises

 

 

The sky holds no animosity

to even the darkest of clouds,

gathering bolts of lightning

and thundering crashes

like vengeful tools of angry gods.

 

The sepia earth shows no rancor

with the children of a lesser god

even as weapons of mass destruction

fall by the wayside,

erode with time, rust in the belly

of the proverbial beast,

slow vines growing green

like tentacles of forgiveness

 

The ocean of endless salt, the rivers of

cool sweetness harbor no resentment

to the muck of oil and the garbage decay of

a hundred million civilizations,

even as life slowly disappears like the bleeding-heart

dove, and the Great Barrier Reef breaks down

and returns to its nothing.

 

Yet the Mother of all possibilities gives us a chance

once again as the sun also rises to make peace with

ourselves before the Last Poem of Earth disappears

right before our eyes.