As we drag our heels toward colossal, eco-wise change, we knock off the days and hours before our sweet earth just can't do it anymore. She just can't adjust to the daily thrashing, the synthetic hounds of damnation, the push off the man-made cliff.
"Let me be beautiful before I die."
And she will be beautiful before she dies. Her final sea waves will hurl up,in perfect, muscular form. Her hardwood forests, drawn and quartered by our unrelenting speed and greed, will splinter and flatten with the scream of angels, and her ice storms will crackle and walk with frosted magnificence. This final anger will shuttle us to a place we certainly don't want to go. The current static state of sweeping environmental policy, and the march of global industrial enterprise will surely lead us there.
2 comments:
Hey Mara
That post was pretty Sylvia Plath. My hope is that the US will do the right thing, now that all other options have been exhausted.
That "ramblavista" comment was me. I didn't know what id I was commenting from.
Merry Christmas to you all
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