Stroll me along on magic’s way,
slow as snails on a winding trail,
for tis this path that's been betrayed.
No more, the straight ‘n narrow fail,
sure to deplete a soul that’s hale.
Speeding greed, seeing dollars ahead,
focused on goals and visions stale.
Hell bent, blind, as Earth’s green-life’s bled.
From that nine to five, could you stray?
What keeps you stuck chasing your tail?
Who wields the leash until you’re gray,
trapped by fear of ‘yet to be’ gales,
or others' perceptions bewailed?
Slave at office or walk in stead,
the simpler path where less sets sail
with clean breezes, Earth’s green-life bred.
For bigger blessings, many pray.
Temples sit 'top wisdom-trees flailed;
flora fades; nests and fauna flayed.
Yet massed minds search for holy grail,
numb to wise nature’s diverse braille.
Flattened textures of sameness fed,
beigey suburbs and smooth-road vales.
Of wildness, Earth’s green-life's being shed
Of what should our lives be availed?
We slay, play, in grab fest, sprawl-sped,
defiling creation's pure ales.
All ail! Earth’s green-life's near death’s bed.
(4/15/17: Ballade didactic: ’70 Nordlund 42; Stockton Marina/Ladd’s, 4/12/17)
Copyright © taai tekai | Year Posted 2017