Soliloquy

This seed I hold in my hand, is the only one left
It sits in a crevice of my palm like a vessel of water in a desert
Maybe it will be a ‘palm tree’ - a hidden oasis inside a scorching day

This seedling I kick with my foot, is the only one left
I trample it with my rubber sole - plastic soul
It curls and waves its hands, a child reaching for the sun, smiling anyway

This tree I touch tenderly, through the smoke of tomorrow's wreckage
Is the only one left
Standing unfailing like a frozen stone warrior, rising from a graveyard of charcoaled and broken bones

This emerald forest you wear, a bright crown on your undeserving head
Is the only one left
Makes you richer than any king could be but you cannot see the forest…for the trees.

This earth, that sustains us, nourishes us, as if we were seeds     
She beats like the broken drum heart, of someone taking their last -  breath - gasping - with terrestrial gills

She turns and rises, like the last flicker of a candle before the dark 
She illuminates the universe, a passing rainbow on a shard of glass
Containing all possible colours…and all possible…