Long before Amiskwaciy
an inland sea, balmy
changed for Her own reasons
long before we named her Gaia.
In Nass valley, volcanic green.
Off Sri Lanka’s coast, city of myth.
Amber birthed in Baltic gloaming.
Tales of Atlantis.
Song after song extolling
our echo of the One
Song in which She, too is singing.
When glamourous ads invade
such as would curse manmade
and declare us a poison, o bad dog
sit down, cock an ear, know less;
still your voice, turn down
that clamour, read a rock.
You are not the conductor.
Earth is not mute. Tune in.
Image today is courtesy Public Domain Pictures on pixabay.com