Confessions

(I feel there is optimism in a cynical confession)
There are people who care for the PoeTREE.


Confessions of an eco-enemy
***

Overdone and undone,
As I cut the woods:

the trees, dumbfounded, fell to the ground.

By the touch of blades on the trunks
their leaves spoke like dumb tongues;
their silent sorrow sank to their roots.

They shot up again with the rains
but unsure of their survival.

Then the birds flew to other forests
but unsure of their new nests.
They were shot or caught & caged or grilled
for my pleasure and tasty food,
and were rescued, to some extent,
and raised when they were going extinct.

They grew, multiplied, fluttered by
and soared, emancipated, in the high sky,
but unsure of freedom in their insecure kingdom.

In jungles and pastures, I hunted
animals frisking in playful gestures.
Tamed & kept in health, they brought me wealth.
Frolicsome were the lambs & calves
but unsure of their innocent lives.

And for lands, victory and grandeur---
Joined with a neighbor, I called him a friend;
Waged war with the other and foe was he named.

NOW, overdone and undone,
I long for harmony and repent for the past.
Let me not be my own prey
Let me pray for the better day.