lyrical, poetic, personal
Is that why
We are burning fossil fuels
Like never before?
The thought of unremembering our only home,
This planet,
Is beyond incomprehensible.
We cut trees,
Which makes wildfires wilder,
The corals paler and bleached,
A nation sinking in the Pacific,
And at the Antarctic,
Penguins would soon be homeless—
What a tragedy!
We can’t just unremember Earth,
And leave the future of our children
To oblivion.
The Home is burning
Conclusively it’s arson
Arsonists, we all
No guilt and justice
For remorseless arsonists
Losing the poor Home
Perhaps charcoal is
More important than the Home
Impoverished choice!
When we’re sick:
We seek for treatment.
We turn to medication.
We just don’t succumb to illness without doing something.
We work not just for relief but for cure.
It’s our nature.
But what happens to that nature when this planet Earth is the one ailing?
Carbon dioxide is at four-hundred twenty-two parts per million.
It’s the highest since the last seven decades.
The global temperature is at the hottest on record.
And methane is no different.
About ninety-percent of global warming is happening in the ocean
as the planet is largely water.
Antarctica is melting its ice mass
at an average rate of one-hundred-fifty billion tons per year,
causing the sea level to rapidly rise.
These anomalies are happening—unprecedented—
Over the two-thousand five-hundred plus years.
Mother Earth is sick.
Aren’t her vital signs enough to get our attention?
Does she have to literally burn before we do something?
How many out of eight billion people are genuinely concerned?
The saddest part, there are among us who don’t believe that it is happening.
It’s an insult to the science community and to those who are doing something.
Resource:
2024. Climate/Vital Signs. NASA
climate.nasa.gov/vital signs
Inspired by Emily Dickinson XXII
I have a roomy heart;
And love is a dear irresistible guest.
At its behest the rooms are filled;
I have no spare for hate.
Unapologetically,
I turn hate down. I have no suggestion,
Nor implied false hope—
Be now or in the future.
The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
By Emily Dickinson
The power of a new day
Turns despair into hope
And offers life-turning possibilities,
Believe.
The roosters know;
But you know better.
Believe.
. . . is a smile—
As bright as the sky—
To lighten
Someone’s cloudy day.
. . . is a reaching hand;
warm and welcoming—
To make one feel
A sense of belonging.
. . . is an open heart and soul
For in there lies
A treasure trove
Meant to spread for a better world.
YouTube/Kimi Miner/Henry Kapono/Highway in the Sun
Dinner is done,
Brushing of teeth and bath are done too.
Pj is on too in pink and black, named Pink too.
Melatonin and melancholia treats are all taken.
All worries and plans are at the back of what touches the pillow. . .
Hoping for eight-hours of uninterrupted dozing,
Wishing not getting up one bleary-eyed open for the John anytime during the night,
Thanking my Creator for another fine day of hustle—
Signing off.
Who hasn’t go through any?
Excruciating,
Agonizing,
Debilitating,
Disorienting,
Those are just few.
Sometime it’s like banging your head on the wall;
Or saw the source pain to get through the anguish.
The bees stings and so do fire ants.
But there’s pain sharper than both.
This one cuts through your being,
Piercing your heart and soul
As it brings lots of tears in your eyes.
Though Aleve and Tylenol are on call—
On this one, they won’t work.
Time is my last recourse.
Lyrics, Sentiments and Me 
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