This was sent to me recently in response to several articles about rabid environmentalists. You know, the sort that think a minnow that cannot survive outside of a small area and is doomed by Mother Nature anyway must be protected against any action by MAN. Not other animals or climate change or flood, but only from the actions of man. Think I am making things up? Look up the snail darter in the 70’s.
But the biggest thing that ticks me off about many so-called environmentalist is that they do not want any solution that does not include man removing himself as much as possible from the equation. They allow no possibility of new resources or new ways to serve man and the Earth at the same time. They have their minds made up. Man is the bad guy and eventually must go. These people are real, they came out of M. Night’s The Happening saying it was “provocative” instead of ragingly stupid.
Anyway, enough of my ranting, here is the piece that was sent in by someone called Witchpoet.
Love spaceship Earth they prattle and bray, And have not the wit to know what they say.
The Earth is our mother these other ones say, While hiding in womb, not conceiving of day.
We grow and we grow within this small shell, But the egg that we live in will soon be called hell.
We fly spaceship Earth and never reach out to land, Never open our hatches, scoop up what we can
And carry it back to feed our Mom’s breasts. We cling to Her womb not much better than pests.
Life is insatiable, it always will grow, yet fools talk of Spaceships and Mom’s like they know
that the end cannot come, no need for more fuel. Say that eggs are for hatching and they call you a tool
of mean nasty male pride, tell you to not rock the ship, they don’t seem to realize there’s no end to THIS trip.
Our Mother conceived us, She nourished our life, but now we must reach out with heart and with strife.
To bring what She needs to grow and be strong, so that She may feed us, Her life to prolong.
“On this ship no passengers, on Her only crew”. Yet they always imagine they will be one of the few
Who manage to struggle and cling to their life, in a World empty of resource, filled only with strife.
The chicks in our Egg will eat their own kin, till one just is left, who then will die from within.
The fetus grows large, not in body but need, we say we are children but instead cancer breeds.
We squawk and we squabble and fight over sand, The armies go this way and that on the land.
But down here is not where the real treasure lies. Look up all you fools look up to the skies!!
The trees overhead are heavy with fruit and with wood, while we fight to eat insects and build the mud.
Look up you fools from the immature fights, take up the right tools before the last night.
Break open the shell, emerge from the womb, refuel our spaceship before it’s our tomb
I know that some things down here cannot wait, but some time we must find to refuel or our fate
Will be as a derelict Ship, a cancer filled Womb, an Egg that has died, that’s the future that looms.
The Egg of our life will be rotten and smell, of more pain and more death than any can tell.
We betray our Mother, fill Her with dread growths, more like violent cancer than children of hopes
Look up I beg you before it’s too late. There’s still time, She still breathes but the time now is late.”