In Our Hands

Poem by Stephanie Marceau 

THE fire in our eyes once created industry, innovation, inspiration, but now it only causes little fires, and gargantuan wild flames that are burning our world to the ground. The lifeblood of growth is now the fuel for our own destruction. The organs we thought once were evolving are actually decrepit and dying by our hands.

WORLDs die at our fingertips, and yet some find no fault in this. Guess there are always the blind in the sea of the masses, slowing the wheel of progress to a grinding halt. The corporations are yelling, how dare they condemn our oil dipped hearts and melting cities and endless streams of voices we have silenced with our money and our power, being green and powerful in all the wrong ways. They eat our governments and trees and animals until all other life on earth is gluttonously gobbled up into oblivion.

IS there no way to mute the steamrollers, the suffocators, the accidental vehicular manslaughter occurring every day as the children can’t breathe air out of their lungs and only carbon pours from their pores?

NOT unheard are we, though. There are the protests and the posters and the petitions screaming at our congress to protect this earth, to protect our creatures, to protect ourselves from the inevitable heat death we are damning ourselves to.

LOST, are some of our most precious organisms, lost to the sands of time and our heartless negligence. Not all can be saved but must we murder, pillage, pilfer, and steal from those which cannot protect themselves? Just because we cannot selfishly and so easily gain from a creature, must we send it to the gallows? We are asking the animals to present themselves useful or be trampled under our feet, forced to create an ultimate disappearing act for themselves, erasing their existence from our history books except for a quick mention of how they ‘led to their own destruction”.

IT is sick how easily we forget, how we erase history as if it never mattered, as if lives did not matter. History is written by the victors, after all, and currently our world is losing a hopeless battle unless the human race concedes, something our stubborn hearts makes very hard.

IS there a time when it will be enough, when the blind eyes will be opened and we will realize what we have done and that the blood of the world is all over us and the heart is in our hands and the brain is bleeding and the gore is all upon us, and we will see ourselves in the mirror and know the true monsters lurking in the night might actually have been ourselves.

IN all truth, it will happen. We will see the blood, the gore, the death, all of it, and we will regret, just as we regret slavery and ethnic cleansing, we will regret what we have done to our earth. And being the innovative creatures we are, when the darkest days come, the light will shine through. That, or humankind will be killed by its own blindness, for they had lived an eye for an eye for so long their children began being born sightless.

OUR future will depend on the hearts of our children, and their children, for we are already lost in our stubborn and selfish ways. So teach your daughters to love, and teach your sons to grow, and teach them both that green should not be the color of your heart but the color of the trees and the grass and the world around them, showering them in riches far more wealthy than the ones we ever owned.

HANDS will hold hands, and hearts will hold hearts, but our homogenous ways need to become more diverse, hands holding hearts holding the earth, for ever since we stepped foot on this planet we have held it in our hands, and it has taken care of us for so long, and now it’s our turn. The world is not lost, it is in our hands. It is up to us what we do with it.

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