I Know

I know you

can feel it –

the inner

twisted knot

that turns.

I know

you can

feel it

because

I do, too.

I know

you can

carve out the

words

to give voice

to it –

the dank

intermittent

horror

that you suppose.

I know

you can

carve them

because

I can, too.

It is really

more about

whether we

will allow

what is in there

to come up

and out.

I know you

have had it

eating at your

soul as you

sleep, work,

drive your car,

and look upon all

that is good

and sweet in your

children;

in the little

ones who have

not asked to

be born into

this slowly

eroding planet.

I know

it is eating

at your soul

because it eats

at my

soul, too.

But,

will you ever

let yourself

wail in public,

lament aloud

in your

temples, or

scream from

what is left of

the richness

of the soil

upon which

we all stand –

what we have

grown to

love as earth.

How can

you not;

how

can I not?

In the end

we must.

It is no longer

all about us,

it is about

all

that is good

and sweet in our

children.

This is
where we
stand;
this is
where we
undone
our earth
with 
greed.

It is

their home

we stand on,

now.

Let our shame
drive our
agility to
respond.

It is where
we must learn to
undo the climate
wrongs we have
done.

I know you
feel it;
I do, too.

It is

their home

we stand on,

now.
It is where
they must
learn to 

survive.

image from: www.astexhibits.com