Going Solar

It is so quiet
I hear the yellow fish sing.
Spring swims inside me.
As I step, the grass whispers.
Grass feels no sadness
as we waste our paradise.
The animals come
and go and always the green
returns. The trees do
not hesitate to burst bud.
Wind lifts the grey gull,
as the white bear stalks seal on
the last floe of ice.
Why does grief fall heavy as
I walk with beauty
through this breaking swarm of green?
What more do we need
than father sun that powers
all that lives on earth?

Polar Bears Stranded on Ice Floe

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