The willow weeps,
the pine trees moan,
all Nature’s feeling it,
deep to the bone.
Humans out of sync,
not hearing their hearts,
the soul of the Earth’s
being torn apart.
“Technology’s call
mesmerized them all,
and why can’t they see,
their hate is a wall?”
The mountains watch,
their strength eons old,
the oceans too have
seen centuries unfold.
They will endure, but
will humans be here?
“It seems they don’t care,
they don’t hold us dear.”
The eleventh hour
draws swiftly nigh,
trees watch us, crying,
will this be goodbye?
The Trees Weep is an excerpt from Humanity’s Lament: Poetry for Our Times. Currently this collection is a free download here.
The watchers watch on,
while the doers do,
it’s been that way for
an eon, or two.
But the world’s changing,
and crumbling, yes,
it’s one more cycle
we must do, I guess.
When it all falls down,
and we see the mess,
who will fix Dumpty?
Not sure, I confess.
Surely not watchers,
they’d watch to their fill,
if they could manage
to play their game still.
This world will be fixed
by those who will work,
there won’t be room for
for those who would shirk.
A broom and hammer
for each of us, we
will clean and construct,
that’s called industry.
Watchers & Doers © Susan L Hart 2024 / My eBooks
They aspire to be like us,
or at least,
what we thought we wanted
to be.
Perfect.
Unblemished,
fake skin over cold metal,
polished to the nth
degree of something
as yet unexplored,
waiting to be birthed.
They aspire.
But, they can never be us.
They miss the whole point.
And maybe so do we.
We are human.
We cry. We laugh. We hurt.
We need each other.
And we are already perfect.
In our imperfection.
Perfect © Susan L Hart 2024
Susan L Hart / Author 