Positions Of Power

Entry by: Seeking Wolf

1st December 2017
We have raised ourselves to unbenevolent echoes of God.
We forget to study the sky,
The long teeth of wheat-fields
We chain to our vanity,
Disdaining to share with our species,
Despising small things...
We spray off the bees
And all creeping things of the earth.

It seems there are those
Who would prefer
To do without the diversity of elephants ;
Each tusk taken
Nails a new coffin.
Another hunter grinning by a lion’s death-
Distortion of pride .
People crouch in sportswear above
The fairest and gentlest
Ghost-child of the thousands upon thousands once,
And not so long ago,
Loping Africa’s grass-plains.

The great whales become invisible deaths-
Easier to miss
The killing of calves
Under cruise ships...
Jagged rhythms
Slicing their tribes’ song-lines,
Scrambling messages for the meetings of sea-giants
-Great cleansers of the netted oceans,
Of our very air...

Instead-let us be as gods-
Let us be Gods!
We train our brains to create in our image
Robots-all-knowing, soul-less...
They can do anything! Stamp out buildings,
Read emotions,
Let’s microchip the world
To make our new creations need us!
-Poor God!
Your dear creation is quickly passing Your gift of power
To our inventions,
Attuned to destroy Your’s at a button’s touch...

Unless-in every heartbeat-
We choose
And teach
A lighter walking,
To recognise each fly as beauty’s harbinger-
That glint of jewelled blue...
The pristine ways of the cockroach...
The sturdy paths of lizards...

And find time to praise
The protectors-
Who, guarding the badger ‘s rest from clumsy killers ,
Bringing their strength to stop the maiming of the forest’s heart
For mass-mutated plants to feed the very cattle that we kill ,
Bring memory of the time
We held our strength more gently
Through kindnesses-
The dominion that sits royally...

In city-top gardens...
Look up!
The sky remains-
Framed for delight-
Sun-filled clouds, moon’s dance...
Take from that heavenly blue the flights
That bring the bombs
To terrorize
Others of God’s children
In His sight.

The earth has dropped its fruits unquestioningly at our feet
The clock cannot be turned.
But we-
May use our lives, to pause,
To cherish this great gift