I woke up this morning to the continued sound of ecological destruction during a time of year when Nature is softest with infinite potential and hope. It pains me to see the steel tines of “progress” desecrate the ancient lands which have given life to countless generations of coyote, rabbits, ravens, snakes, lizards, quail, chuckars, yellow balsam root, sage, rabbitbrush. What was once curvaceous wild hills upon a dark sky is now terraced into submission and polluted with streetlights.
If you are going to pillage the Earth,
break it down
With iron tines of adapted war machines,
called backhoes, bulldozers and rock crushers
Then at least have the courtesy to do it at the high noon of summer
or the dead of winter.
Ravaging in the rain in early spring,
when birds sing their song of hope
where plants brighten with lushness
how flowers show their vulnerability
while soil opens with fertile receptivity,
Pain turns to torturous despair
as the ancestral lands give stillbirth
and the blood of terra erodes,
devoid of life.
The sacrilege of doing something more perverse than what is already evil.
The equivalent of killing somebody, but killing a pregnant woman.
Where evil turns to sacrilege.