Gaia’s Call

When the doors of revelation are open just a crack,
it’s then the Soul can take a peak, forward but not back.
What have we now arrived at and where do we go now,
the answer’s not in our hands, it was us who held the plow.
Without a thought of futures we destroyed without need;
we lived solely solely for Mammon – we lived solely for greed.
Now as Gaia burns in Hell we sit upon our collective hands;
we do our jobs, we celebrate, we go to Pubs, we hear our bands.
Our Earth is dying can’t we see the writing now upon the wall;
we cannot stop it lest we hear the silent voice of Gaia’s call.
To answer is the only chance that we can live another day;
to hear an answer to her call must be the words for which we pray.

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
This entry was posted in Gaia, Green Poetry, Life, Spirit. Bookmark the permalink.

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