Wednesday, April 22, 2015

These Voices

Wherever we look there is our trace
Not a mere shadow or footprint
An automobile on the sand
Eight hundred campfires in the valley
Valley of the smokes

We set aside public lands
And use them
And use them

Those whose sensibilities are anchored in lava
Old lava grown obdurate cold impassive
These have taken up banners
Grown a collective voice
A voice that cries and shouts
Angry voices of those long displaced

Oh hear our plea
It this the voice of the requiem?
Or will they stop the vision of those who want to see
all the way to edge of the universe?

Whales of winter go
They return to their other home
Every concert ends
We fly like the geese in patterns we know
To places we understand

We are vast numbers with needs that stretch
horizon to horizon
water from the sky made to go to
vast pools those who cared for the land
cried out destruction of the temple
Mirror or valley
Water for a city or riverbed?

Each of us has displaced those who came before
leaving footprints in the ash

Know these truths
When we gather in our cities
We all drink the water from the reservoir
And if we are to understand how this all began
There are not already enough telescopes

Earth Day April 22 2015 Hawaii Island 
photo from San Francisco Examiner
Hetch Hetchy Reservoir 

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