Mother Earth wept today,
While Robins sang spring tears away,
Behold! Swift clouds, drifting o'er an icy crest,
As Sister Moon cups her swelling breast.

Restless vagabond, wand'ring lost,
Caged below a barren sky, appears embossed,
Protest sweet dreams with some torrid verse,
Attendant, page thy idle King, ere thou fondly curse.

Deft Horace cleave this coming month at Ides,
Ere justice burn the tree of life with its serpent tides,
In remote regions, where nothing evades corruption,
That talking snake with its poison, its sly invention.

There is a sacred spring, deep in the barren desert,
Where God cries out for the faithful to congregate,
A sacred spring hidden deep in an ancient forest,
Where perfect light entrances wisdom into a sacred fate.

There is a sacred spring welling up in our souls, a living gulf,
Seeking a river to the moon, to the stars, to heaven itself,
Beyond the edge of forever, where a mighty dragon lives,
Where roaring lions lie down with the lamb, such power gives.

Oh intrepid Lilliputian Nuthatch!
Ascending sturdy trees in hopes to catch,
Juicy vagrant insects, where e'er you go,
Such a splendid bird, hastily flitting to and fro!

Atmospheric March, changing seasons portend,
Cousin Titmouse comes verily, a substance to wend,
Migration stations north and south, beyond the heart,
Slipping past errant danger, doing their nomad part.

Stripped to the bone, which modern has done,
All that ancient custom and ceremony gone,
All our flight feathers torn out from the very root,
So corporate profiteers successfully silenced moot.

How much water has been uncaringly poisoned?
How much good soil has been treacherously ruined?
How many worms and birds are drunk and dead?
How many family farms, now despoiled with all that dread?

Pure water and the lack of it, so much hurt,
All that intense diverse desert, lack of good dirt,
Scrutinizing and speculating, such a varied sum,
Nervous in our midst about what may and may not come.

Wonderment about what went down, again that sacred tree,
Across the sands of time, across that vast roiling boiling sea,
Across the face of the laughing moon, so spiritually grand,
Stars falling into the blazing sun, like drifting desert sand.

Galaxies wandering across the universe, like lost children,
Uncertainty about whether it will rain upon some warbling Wren,
So much angst about hurricanes, whether life will be blown away,
Many questions, if the tide will ebb or flow, whether good life will stay?

As night draws its uncertain curtain, before the coming dawn,
As the sun dries drops of reflective dew, from off the desert lawn,
From off all the fragrant blooms, neighbours to struggling herbs and shrubs,
In this changing season and atmosphere, birds search for juicy fat grubs.

Where the restless world cavorts with untold disaster,
Where wells and springs dry up, searching for a water master,
Disappearing once again, that unforgiving desert with its curs,
Heroes and explorers strive blindly, so invention, so abundant cures.

Before lying down in the freezing cold, harbouring their sorry goals,
Numerous failures and waterfalls tumble, stealing their ragged souls,
Dragging them away in shackles, contrite through the moil and muck,
Across virgin territory towards virgin home, where life is thus unstuck.

Further into weeping  jungles, across arid deserts, souls are lured,
Where only helpless screams and cries shall e'er be heard,
Until all is finally calm with all those faithful, left bravely standing,
Beyond those unfortunates left behind, kneeling and cowering.

With all our trembling hands and voices raised in thousands,
With all our mystified eyes riveted on those unblinking heavens,
Meeting all that treachery and gloom promised with that stature,
Washing o'er the failing earth, in all its grief and all its vivid nature.

While God sits high upon his golden celestial throne,
Pointing down with his angry vision and roiling tone,
God's deliberate finger grazing this wounded earth he's seen,
Knowing once upon a time all was perfect, once everything serene.