Earthly Reflections
We've over farmed the Sacred Earth.
Sold her beauty to the highest bidder.
Traded Her future for what?
We've almost left her barren.
The sucking sound of greed,
Consuming her very soul.
But its only a matter of time,
Until she will again be whole
We've over farmed the money tree too.
The value of exchange once a sacred bit of bread.
Or warmth to heal the family.
Or the wool from which to spin our thread.
Life sustaining items of meaning.
Have been perverted into,
Something meaningless.
Home is where the heart is.
Not for speculation.
The impersonal zeros,
Dancing on the balance sheet,
Can never bring us back
To that place.
Where humanity will,
Once again meet,
In humanity to one another.
Homes standing empty.
With little children living
Homeless by the river,
Of poverty. They must be freed.
We must cure these symptoms
Of this disease called greed.
poem by Lynne FincherSpringarden
Added by Poetry Lover
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