“What does the Lord require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”
– Micah 6:8
I walk the neighborhood,
home after home —
porches filled with lonely swings
awaiting human touch
that never comes
I carry on, taking in
the emerald grass at my feet.
The last scent of summer air breaks,
a hint of smoke wafts
from leaves that promise to fall
I spot the first turkey vulture of the season
spread its’ wide wingspan overhead.
Some say, a nuisance, a disgraced fowl.
But, I see how this fluid being uses
God-given resources to regift the earth.
I round the corner to my favorite spot,
a sanctuary of trees that arch over the road,
bends soft, shows me how to shift with the wind,
to welcome new form, reminds me
change is a natural progression of the hours
But, this day, the trees are not there to greet me.
An imposter Caterpillar sits in the space.
Not an organic creature morphing into
its’ butterfly emergence, rather a yellow leviathon,
a killer of life. The trees are hacked, gone.
I gasp aloud. “Noooo!” swells from my depths.
The tears flow free for these sweet trees in my neighborhood,
for the plants and animals burning in the Amazon,
for the Great Pacific Garbage patch,
for the adults and children gunned down in senseless shootings,
for the destruction of life by the hands of the collective
Who will take responsibility
and when will we have enough?
Let me —
I plan to open enrollment for new workshops next week! Stay tuned!
Blessings to you this day. XO Ally