An Earth
This poem is taken from my new book, Talking of Michelangelo: Death, Judgment, Heaven and Hell in the Burgundy Region. It is a memoir about an experience I had at a monastery in France.
I’ve never been much of an environmentalist because part of me feels like the earth can take care of itself and that it’s not fragile or always on the verge of being killed by us humans. But, on the other hand, it’s no reason for us not to treat it with love, respect, and care. And so I think this poem makes an effort to bridge that idea—that we have to take care of the earth, but that the earth also kind of takes care of itself.
An Earth
I know beneath
The trees of You and Me
There is Silence.
Somehow, I wonder
Why upon a Sea of Hope
It seems strange
To ask the Sky
Why it lets me watch
Its naked wanderings,
Its undressed ponderings.
The World around is in
A World of its own.
I feel sorry,
Lost and embarrassed stranger,
Red-faced and wondering,
Is it all right for me to see this?
And An Earth — though raped —
Still Lives,
Still Gives.