The wet fingerprints
of an ill wind stain
the weather,
fronts of rain,
the blood-red
dust of deserts.
Clouds gather;
the black squall
engulfs us.
No-one is blameless
in the cyclone
of distorted climate
bearing down.
Not one of us is innocent:
what falls on us now
is the sky in pieces,
its thunderous vengeance,
like blades on the flesh,
for our years of taking,
for our contaminating hands.
Rain takes on
the colour of blood.
The wind on our faces
is the earth’s breathed promise
to heal itself despite our efforts,
our half-hearted regrets,
our pointless misremembered greed,
our self-centred progress
on its litter-strewn road.
No-one except ourselves
is coming now to sit
in judgment; we know
change must come;
with or without us,
change will come.
None of us is innocent.
Can’t shake off the climate change agenda. As if that was it - an agenda. But, no. we’re in the grip of consequences and still we fail to grasp it.
The point here, though, is that no-one is going to judge us. No-one will even lay blame, though blame might be deserved. Only ourselves. We know what we’re doing and we will reap what we sow. As if such a benign agricultural parallel was appropriate.
No. This is bluntly about survival or extinction. Our state of grace or the lack of it is actually of no importance at all.
the weather,
fronts of rain,
the blood-red
dust of deserts.
Clouds gather;
the black squall
engulfs us.
No-one is blameless
in the cyclone
of distorted climate
bearing down.
Not one of us is innocent:
what falls on us now
is the sky in pieces,
its thunderous vengeance,
like blades on the flesh,
for our years of taking,
for our contaminating hands.
Rain takes on
the colour of blood.
The wind on our faces
is the earth’s breathed promise
to heal itself despite our efforts,
our half-hearted regrets,
our pointless misremembered greed,
our self-centred progress
on its litter-strewn road.
No-one except ourselves
is coming now to sit
in judgment; we know
change must come;
with or without us,
change will come.
None of us is innocent.
© BH, 2021
Can’t shake off the climate change agenda. As if that was it - an agenda. But, no. we’re in the grip of consequences and still we fail to grasp it.
The point here, though, is that no-one is going to judge us. No-one will even lay blame, though blame might be deserved. Only ourselves. We know what we’re doing and we will reap what we sow. As if such a benign agricultural parallel was appropriate.
No. This is bluntly about survival or extinction. Our state of grace or the lack of it is actually of no importance at all.
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