INSURGENCY II. The Earth Cries in Warning

Peace, peace shall not prevail!
We are the trees and the grass.
Our souls are not used to the noise.

A beast of artificial design,
The most unnatural and murderous,
Crawls across our lonely plain.

The shades of panic grow within us.
They sprint for the great city!
The most unnatural pulses spurn.

An anthem of destruction beckons.
Syncopation and articulation growl.
Our peace starts to mutate and bend.

The people of the Gothic city!
What untold crime shall they bear!
What shame the grass cannot forewarn!

INSURGENCY I. The Winged One Awakes

I am the spirit of nature.
Carefree and complacent,
I sleep in my earthly domicile.

The branches of my tree stir.
The aura of the night is disturbed.
Surely a nightmare flitters by.

But the pulsations of the earth
And the demon in the distance
Will not bid me my usual silence.

The wings of my unspoken fear,
At first drunken with sleepiness,
Begin to shift like a heartbeat.

My voice shall not silence.
The Mechanizations are coming.
I know not but to shriek in confusion.

Creatures of the city and the earth!
Creatures of the night and the sky!
Gather in my panic and in my pain!

The denizens of the great city
Lie asleep in their gentle beds,
With I the sole messenger to tell.

The Organic Elegy

to CA

The warm whispers
of the fingertips:

Their cultivated form lay
forever and now silent,
So the song would seem.

Betrayal is wrapped up
In the leaves of the damned
And the careless.

An inconceivable wilt
In the flower of her soul-
Visible to all who see.

Yet, unfurling from
This tangled nest of organics
Lies a remarkable seed.

What remains to be seen
Is the tempo of the weather
And the fervor of the germ.

Ideal conditions for a bloom-
No such season known before,
Hearkens to the soil underneath.

Believe it or not,
The Sun will rise again.