If We Are the Disease

I visited earth's heart yesterday.
Her moss-covered arteries shimmered with golden leaf-lace.
An afternoon visit,
  hushed intimate moments splashed with humanity -
    laughing children, barking dogs,
    jogging women, strolling couples,
    a chattering family taking selfies
  in the strong, thick arms of an ancient, overturned root.

I rested my hand on the naked trunk
of a bark-stripped tree
scarred with initials and hearts.

I love you,
  I said to the wild world.
Do what you must.

If we are the disease, do what you must
to heal your battered soil-fed heart.
You are worth more than all of us.

One thousand years from now,
you will find a way
for the best of who we are
to live on in you.

It won't be
a selfie.

The Trees Said "Yes"

        1

Walk with me, 

the shadows said.

And the trees said

Yes.

Watch with me,

begged the dark, cloud-marbled sky,

until the night is weary 

and dew beckons 

like honey-drops from the lancing thorns,

and the church-bells ring through the chill air

and the dawn lashes me with stripes of gold.

Watch with me.

Walk with me.

Listen.

And the trees said 

Yes.

        2

Were you listening when

the trees said 

Yes

and

the sky said 

please

and 

every singing bird 

fell silent?

Were you speaking when

the earth groaned

and

the fish burned

and

our frozen past

melted?

Were we weeping when

we drank ashes

and

swam in sand

and

the jungles collapsed beneath our weight?