Protest Poem

do we have soft, faces of gold

and hearts warm in our chest

I’m seeking comfort

from the tyranny

of denial

As the smoke and ash blanket

Sydney

we are told not to be alarmed

as our collective asthmatic lungs fill with

liquid black inky tears

from my mothers generation

that fought so hard to have

kindness to our Earth

shown in all our myriad of ways

but now

as we choke

the system says ‘this is not happening’

‘it’s not what you think’

calm down

I will not sit by and stitch my heart

to leaders who do not have vision

we need industry change

investment change

policy change

and leadership

we need a complete rethink of how

we all participate in our economy

citizens must divest

how can we all survive

in an environment that is only partially understood

we now know trees communicate

what are the secrets of an indigenous life

that Nature is as alive as you and me

She weeps when she is cut

the trees know when you have selfish intentions

they will not honor you with oxygen if you forget

to water them

this world we live in is a web, everything

communicates with everything else

you will feel this in her forests

as shinrin-yoku, or forest bathing

it is in the science now

I think, what will become of my home?

How long do I have left?

I’m sure as the ash pours into

our rivers, beaches and drinking water,

we will or must consider our climate catastrophe

as if our home was on fire

because it is.

hope is seen in the new economy, where a circular model of

creation will help with the old linear-type model,

that dumps, rubbishes or burns

at its end stage of every built-in obsolescence design

and manufacture.

That craziness has to end.

Industry that pollutes to sell us junk we don’t need, including

cheap clothes that have one season to be sold,

are buried or burnt.

We don’t need this.

Water that is free and precious is bottled

and sold for huge profits,

while people of places like Flint, see no justice.

Who said we could take everything

She has given us for free?

and mine till our heart’s content,

raping our Earth until

every mineral is taken, used and spat out.

We have not long

and yet our faces seem to say on the TV,

“business as usual”.

squabbling about who said what to who

as the lungs of the Earth are burnt

in Bornio and the Amazon

not even forested ….. just…..burnt.

who said you could kill so many activists?

What were they saying?

that our land is being destroyed for palm oil

and we have not been consulted,

so many generations

and we have not been consulted.

© 2019 Bee Williamson

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