Will the birds sing
on the last day or go quiet
before humanity breathes its last breath?

The day of reckoning will be of our own making,
a day of cause and effect.

We often feel that there’s no justice,
but don’t reckon with the fact that we ourselves
are Mother Nature, our actions of consumerism not a polluting disaster but suicidal madness, un-inspected and never uprooted,
never taken self-responsibility for.

Self-responsibility seems too hard, our modus operandi is still to always look outside of ourselves, to science, to miracles, to big daddies and mummies, to fairytales, money, hope or even hopelessness.

Our well intended communal attempts at fixing things are too little too late and still based on the principle of our survival,
rather than understanding Mother Nature’s love-full principles
of sacrifice and surrender, proven by each birth and death of all beautiful, harmless temporary forms.

Humanity has often thought the world was about to end – but it didn’t.
So…

…we carry on, making plastic and babies and merry and mayhem at the junction of knowing and acting, hoping for the best, as if the best is yet to come.

All the while the best is always right in front of us, as us, part of us, standing radiantly, glaringly obvious in our blind spot.

Mother Nature wants us, but doesn’t need us.
We need her and she’s exhausted.
She’s at her wit’s end.

© Sitara Morgenster

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This poem/reflection was written in June 2017 but not published until January 2020. Mosaic by Helen Miles [image used with the artist’s permission].