photo c/o Google Images
Vast wheat fields sweep across fertile lands, their tall bearded kernels bob and sway to a summer breeze. One of mother nature’s most prolific staples harvested from the lands of sustenance to the bounty of our table.
Our farmlands are gradually disappearing, our soils and fresh water increasingly contaminated, the air we breathe polluted, litter discarded with reckless abandon, rivers and streams strewn with the spoils of humanity. Our wildlife is increasingly at risk with countless species nearing or past extinction. Global warming is escalating as our precious land, water and air succumb to human indifference.
Our nations crave riches through extraction of the lands. Oil is drawn by the barrel in billions. Forestation clear cut to barren wasteland, leaching chemicals forever changing our precious seas. Mankind has committed grave injustice to the very elements of our planet sustaining. How long will we be afforded living off the land? From prairie wheat to killing fields our careless disregard will someday render ourselves extinct.
Preservation is a matter of conscience, a matter of sustenance, a critical matter of survival. It all begins with teaching, learning, believing. Every human being on this planet has an obligation…our existence depends on it. We can all turn a blind eye and feign a deaf ear yet the realities of ruin stare us in the face for reasons we will never justify. Look long into the eyes of your children and tell them a story about how it all used to be…just be prepared when they sadly ask you why we no longer care? Look to the answers for the sake of our children.
Boyhood years in fields of loaming
Golden wheat and chaff asunder
Air of pureness, big sky of blue
Kernels bearded, tall stems burgeon
Bountiful our ages’ staple
Cattle grazing, mares in wander
Streams as pure as driven snowfall
Imagination timeless travel
Long my gaze would span horizons
Nature’s splendor gentle rising
Adventure lies beyond the trails
In forests green and soils fertile
Hawks in summer wind’s caressing
Soar among the treetops lofty
I longed to fly as birds of prey
In majesty and might of being
In silence, gentle, wheat fields sway
I’d close my eyes and come what may
Scents of tree moss, ferns of tender
Fronds of green as fans uprising
Toads amidst the brush in hiding
Croak in belching tones resounding
I pray my life forever so
Though signs of ruin hence foretold
© Don MacIver 2014; All Rights Reserved
Poetry & Verse © 2014
LastingImpressionsEditing © 2014