I ask myself ‘is there ever a day
in which I do not try?’
Death and destruction
famine and disease
write the headlines
sell the stories.
The earth is reacting to all of our excess
one day may cleanse itself of all of us
it’s hard to deny, it’s all a mess
and yet is this a reason not to try
to be changed?
One day will come the day
in which I do not try
all of these things
and that will simply mean
I’ve ceased to be
but do not worry:
Not the words themselves
but the song of the words
the hope in the words
the love of every smallest thing
this and only this
lives on in
© Experimentsinfiction 2021, All Rights Reserved
Sharing with earthweal
Brendan has given us the following challenge this week:
For this weekly challenge, write of EARTHCRAFT, that work of restoring earthly perfection through craft.
- What is the nature of work and its perfection in craft.
- How does a poetry of earth attempt that craft?
- How is work changing, and what tools are there for keeping balance?
- What can we learn from this work in nature, be it bee-craft or forest growth, whale song or wind-work?
- If there an alchemy to earthcraft, what does its labors look like and what is the quinessence?
That sort of thing. Write of EARTHCRAFT.
In this poem I’ve tried to examine what the craft of poetry means to me.