‘Michaelmas daises, purple in the border’
so we once sang at school,
I gave it not
a second thought.
What flowers bloom now to adorn this
What hands are joined to celebrate the bounty of
A connected world, with hands divided,
only by greed, the need
to plunder every last resource
till we are left resourceless
hands once filled with
scramble for remaining scraps of food.
that’s what we’d become
before the Fall:
We didn’t recognise the irony
of our own language,
business-minded, turning everything
into an inexhaustible resource
or so we thought;
not only empty hands but empty stomachs now
tell quite another tale:
We are no longer fearless whale-hunters, rather
cowering in the belly of the whale.
Written for earthweal weekly challenge: An Anthropocene Michaelmas. Brendan wonders ‘what Michaelmas festival poems of the Anthropocene look like.’ He asks us to write one. I tried to imagine a Michaelmas some time this century when we have finally used up every last natural resource. I hope we never get there. As Brendan concludes:
‘Maybe the music can only sound ironic and dreadful; maybe not. It is up to us to find out.’
I found this video on YouTube. It’s a song I used to sing at school, when ‘Global Warming’ was already a concern but laughed off by politicians as a fringe issue. Now even ‘Global Warming’ has had a P.R. job and been reimagined as the less threatening (and more natural) sounding ‘Climate Change.’ Come on, everyone: let’s stop sugar coating everything. Time to wake up and provide a future for our children.
I’m also linking this post to dVerse — Poetics — The Vatic Voice. Tonight, dVerse is hosted by Lisa who asks for a poem in or about the Vatic Voice. In my case, this is a poem of prophesy. It was written in stream-of-consciousness style in which I gave vent to all the worries I have about the problems we are facing as a species.