The Rain
The rain before the industrial revolution, was part of the cycle, to maintain balance in nature. Now, it’s part of a frantic effort to dilute, and remove pollution, no longer able to find lost plants and trees. It now falls with increased frequency,without purpose on concrete and asphalt, barren rainforest lands, stripped to grow cash crops, to satisfy junkies fixes. One can only hope, psychedelic mushrooms, in vogue by the trend setting actors of La La land, replace poppies, and hemp, taking up less land. The oxygen engine, of the earth, can be restored to full capacity, by replacing trees once lost,without a second thought. Reforestation hopefully becoming an accepted priority, funded in addition to defense budgets, and pork. Then Mother Nature could chill, low and high pressure systems again producing needed rain, not the damage left in the wake of tornadoes, microbursts,hurricanes, and typhoons. The time to heal the earth, can’t be infinite. Like the lifespan of all who walk, it has a beginning and an end, if signs are continued to be ignored, and our greatest resources, lives and dollars, stay focused and remain on winning and justifying war.
Copyright © Randolph Byrd | Year Posted 2022
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment