One Play for Peace

The Peaceable Kingdom by Edward Hicks (1826)

In this play, all the animals speak.

I haven’t written it yet, you know—

or—it isn’t written yet. Passive

voice for the win. While we are trying,

each adds a word. Here. There. Disappeared.

We like blending in since we’re tired

of separation. We lose our selves

in community. Identity

is no great loss, you see. Now no one

wants to take responsibility.

Author-ship is no great loss either.

People in authority don’t act.

Here in anonymity we plant

seedlings and seeds while praying

the gardens we fill are fertile still.

And then we stand strong and tall as trees,

arms outstretched as if offering warmth

and shelter.  Still and solid for safety.

Our silhouettes in shadow. Faces

indistinguishable. No one sees.

But we smell the earth we stand upon.

We smell each others’ fragrance, and some

of us are firs with needles and cones

or branches with buds that may open.

Cats, birds, squirrels and insects use us.

Wind and the elements it drives move

us. We step back. We no longer breathe.

But as heat, cold, wet, and dry test us,

we feel their power and their embrace.

They invite us to enjoy their dance.

The play will have words, I think. We drop

them, but don’t take charge of blending them.

Let another animal do that—

or a plant—what matters is that we’re

here. We’ll show up as long as we live.

 

For the earthweal weekly challenge: A KEEN EAR FOR A QUEER EARTH

My blog poems are rough drafts.

Please respect my copyright.

If you quote, credit this page.

© 2022 Susan L. Chast