For my children, for my muse

This small piece of paradise...

Gilded radiant sunlight slice

Creeping in through the peach and green

of autumnal persimmon leaves

My breath leaves me...

Paradise;

Bathed in morning light

Small feet with glowing faces pace

The first rumbling rhythms of day

Break

the bleak darkness of mauve and ebony shatter

away

A rainbow of laughter fills the room

The twinkle of blue and chestnut eyes

Bloom

Paradise, not given, but fought for

For darker times have befallen us all

This place; delicate and perfect in its mystery

A quiet, playful piece of harmony

An ecosystem so fragile we risk it all

to fall...

Slate grey clockworks turn

festering egos churn

The cold hard flash of green cash

The roaring pain of land in

flame

Raging angst as war victims thrash

What future do we hold in our hands?

Wild abundant, green, veracious lands?

Or the vicious red flash of racist flags?

Do we stand on black bitumen burning?

Or verdant moist soil ripe for turning?

What do we choose
?

What future will I fight for?

For my children, for my muse?