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Shrink-wrapped chicken flesh sits on shelves,
but who remembers how to raise hens for food?
Faucets dispense fresh cold and hot water,
but who knows how to haul buckets full?
And from where? We
close our eyes and reach out,
hoping food and water will tell us how
and where. Will they-whom-we-abused help us?
Survival skills are sparse away from farms.
Maybe our parents’ parents’ stories hold clues
for survival, if enough of them gather. (Now that
we know Flint's story of lasting pollution, now
that science and government have failed us.)
It's time to praise water without waiting
for more reasons to weep. Time we learned
to save it without looking for whom to blame.
Time we showed
up to save ourselves.
And as we walk toward the fields, let's greet
those who might still welcome us—trees and plants
and folks native here and those who—like us—
are still their guests. We have only this chance.
For Sumana's
Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Water
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
© 2018 Susan L. Chast
Respect yes indeed as we manage our planet Earth
ReplyDeleteFantastic write Susan
Thank you for dropping by my blog today
Much🌼love
I LOVE this poem. Especially "Time we sing praises to water without waiting for more reasons to weep." I love the Tree Sisters, who are planting trees (and thus helping water) all over the world. Love your poem's message that we can each walk into the fields, the forest or the beach and do what we can to clean and mend. Truly that is the way forward.
ReplyDeleteLove this, Susan. Indeed we are far from knowing rudimentary steps to our own survival.
ReplyDeleteTime we learned to save it without looking for whom
ReplyDeleteto blame. Time we showed up to save ourselves.
It is essentially a necessary commodity for survival no doubt about it!
Hank
Yes with all of our new technology we have forgotten the wisdom of our forebears who knew how not to waste our resources.Good poem.
ReplyDelete"let's greet / those who might still welcome us—"...Such is the forbearance of mother nature!...& our last chance. Nicely put.
ReplyDeleteSo true...so wisely put...!
ReplyDeleteTime we showed up to save ourselves. A stark powerful message Susan.. a plea almost..before we drive ourselves to destruction. What a planet we leave behind for our young.
ReplyDeleteYes, we will passs this way only once, it is a one way journey. And yet we have spoiled so much. We have not learned to walk lightly and do no harm.
ReplyDeleteWould that more people would heed the warning with which this poem ends!
ReplyDeleteSuch truth in your wise words Susan.
ReplyDeleteWe are agents of our own (eventual) destruction and maybe we have left it too late to make changes...
Anna :o]
I loved this again, my friend. Old fashioned farming was the best, most natural. I wish factory "farming" had never been invented. I read recently that the PLANET has 60 years of arable soil left for planting. This terrifies me. I love the positives in your closing stanza especially......
ReplyDeleteI agree. It's time to stop blaming others and work together to create real and effective change. The attitudes and practices of our forebears can teach us a great deal. Suzanne - (wordpress) Mapping Uncertainty
ReplyDeleteTime we showed up to save ourselves...exactly right.
ReplyDeleteYour poem is so full of wisdom: we have lost the survival skills of our ancestors and become dangerously dependent on supply chains. I don't think many people stop to think how fragile the whole global food/water system is. But I have thought about it often. Thank you for answering the challenge!
ReplyDelete