Sequelae

Part One: Just Human?

Not Too Big To Fail

Ninety-six percent of the historic redwoods logged. Monetized. We now see that as excessive. Should we have stopped at four percent? Fifty percent? Will we mine ninety-six percent of the coal, oil, and natural gas and then create national parks to protect the rest?

no-moon-no-lights night sky
my granddaughter says
we're so small
here on earth
we're giants

Part Two: Eco-Grief

Lifeline or Thin Thread

We invaded--land, sea, air--and the earth couldn't defend itself. Will we keep pillaging until nothing we want is left? It's hard to accept that we could have tried harder and didn't.

Children are too young to grieve the end of the earth they never got to know.

micro-plastic particles
in deep ocean sediment
my granddaughter says
Mom said mushrooms
can eat plastic

Being Here

We are limited in our individual ability to significantly lessen the climate catastrophe, but I am also limited in my ability to accept that we have limits. I keep getting stuck between despondency and fury: if-we-can't-do-a-lot-better soon, every biological kingdom is going to be so much worse off.

I know. I know. No matter what humans do, the earth will keep going, and the destruction we cause is just part of our planet's life cycle. But with great power comes great responsibility, and our governments and businesses aren't there yet.

after the storm
a dead hummingbird
on our porch
I didn't want to pick it up
then didn't want to put it down

Part Three: Attention, Please

Fixer-Upper

a raven hides
the rest of the gull chick
in the ice  plant cliff
we're the predators who prey
on our own children's future

But if we could accept that our disruptive desires aren't obligatory . . .

first rains green the hills
a flock lands and feeds
our makeover
of the earth
doesn't have to be permanent

And if we could watch the campfire, pulsating red-orange as the wood gives up its centuries for our warmth, and see it as a gift . . .

a returning swallow
perches
on a chartreuse-mossed oak
this could be my home
if I widened my gaze
 

Part Four: Aah, Green

Long View/Short View

bay-oak woodland
trying to see
all the shades of green
time slows down
--- we're born for this, too

So many casualties in our three-hundred-year assault on the earth. Hard to be compassionate about what we've done and are still doing, but one day our planted-sapling peace offerings might shade more than an armistice.

juncos feeding
I veer off  the trail
so they won't fly
research shows helping others
helps us, too