The air begins low and then sings high,
The birds soar skyward and then swoop by.
The sun melts yellow and mellow shines,
The light shoots through and evades the pines.
Mountains loom, snow falls and water gushes
Through crags between rocks and on rushes;
The chill is duly warmed by the beams,
Heaven on earth … or so it seems …
Concrete and tar rise upward, majestic, ugly,
A cold light of their own gleaming unceasingly,
A stoic hindrance to humanity, no doubt,
A human necessity they can’t do without.
The air lacerated with darkened soot and mindless smog,
Breezes stilled, beams dimmed, breath blocked,
Desolation crawls within as do suicidal tendencies,
Life’s utter folly, its own vagrancies.
The aimless thirst for what is not to what is,
To take from another what was never his,
Lie for no reasonable and explicable cause,
To exist, to not just live, but just because.
A child’s laughter so pure, almost divine,
Leads to beauty, joy and happiness sublime.
A man’s grown chuckle so virile, so morbid,
Resembles inborn greed and all that’s sordid.
A daughter’s anguished pain and her incessant weeping,
Her father’s grin and his forced ignorance constantly creeping.
The burst of metal and fire, the end of a living thing,
Existing billions blown from being to nothing.
Though the Mother still survives and lives on,
Though the Blessed Faith carries upon
A ruthless world, Hope remains and moves
To etch within Destiny its lovely grooves.
And the sun still shines and burns bright,
Just like the stars that burn at night.
The sand still sifts as the wind sighs,
And people still cry when love dies.