The wood misunderstood the knife, the ax, the scythe
though for centuries it had sheltered man and should not
have misunderstood man's intent.
Wind chimes sublime mime melodies wordless tones
without rhyme noting not the passing of time.
The endless sky buoys the trees leaves on coy up drafts,
wafting orange, gold and green to the cheeks of cumulus white,
enjoying the dichotomy between soft and hard.
Thermal columns deploy destroyed bits of bough.
Seeds of all kinds entwine, caress, combine, they're of one mind;
they procreate by design, wind borne to other climes.
And so, the firmament complies for known reasons
not to be undone each season, each tree, a beason from on high
reseeding forests from the ax's treason; gifting the breath
on which all life relies.
Maple, oak, ash, pine, spruce and even palm, their numbers
whittled by man's metal, leaving homeless little creatures
trapped between man in the middle of a serious decline.
Even man's life is belittled for greed rules.
The smaller things those on wings are routed out on
wind and tide. Burnt sprouts crisp without, caused by drought
there's little doubt about their demise.
The beauty of a bumble bee, a ladybug, a seed blown on
an autumn breeze, they matter. The natural world man's torn
and tattered leaving empty nights without the chatter of the frog
and cicada. The owls they've scattered, their prey feed on poisonous scree.
Soon only waves of mindless prater will fill the wind come from the sea.
Forewarned by Prime now's the time to shift our focus to what's sublime
labeling pollution as a crime. Let man heal the clime
repay his greed with natures green.
So disengage decrease your horde, live a simpler life, be sage.
The earth breathes, in wood, wind, water, and metal now fire
burns the stage, the elements are God's gauge.
Damp this all to human rage.