Whispers of Hope

Uno i - Dense Hues

Cries, calls and howls

All the vibrancy between.

Greens, golds, tall browns,

Deep shades, united leaves.

Dense foliage fails to hide some

Glimpsed movements.

Swingers

Crawlers

Walkers

Climbers

Runers

Flyers

Even sways. But hardly falls.

That motion - reserved For the clear-blue,

Forgiving colour of liquid, of life.

Hurtling into the heavy jungle,

Once again, monsoon.

Thick, healthy air fills the dense undergrowth,

Dampening all out of the reach of rain.

Cascades glide to gather in pooling outgrowth,

Fauna journeys in search of this falling fane.

For all, A sudden shower.

For all - Underneath this dripping sky - a release.

For, all Species a cleansing.

Kissing leaves, Slipping over branches,

Coating tree trunks.

Racing to soak earth and fur.

Firmly tapping and patting Scales and skin.

Falling for all,

Nature’s bullets of life.

Uno ii - Three Sparse Earth Tankas

1 -

Thinly dispersed trees

Cracked earth cradling creased leaves.

Faded sunburnt chalk

Forming prisons without walls

Stretches, blends to fade.

2 -

Wandering outcast

Namibia's King of Beasts.

Poached, prey-hunted.

Scouring the dijon dust,

Dispirited. Done.

3 -

Withered muscle, used

Not to hunt, only scavenge

Pride lost, dejected

Through a deforested land.

Alone and dethroned.

Dos i -Money Ants

Organisms of people

Differing speeds, strides

Directions and destinations.

All sharing one trait: The Money Motivation.

Like parasites, throughout lifeless space,

Artificial colours and sounds pollute natural beauty.

From mobiles, the intelligence which connects us,

Draining our souls, it divides, disconnecting us from our heritage.

From Buckets of Bolts, packed across wide rivers of tar,

Sounding their horns to join the discordant choir.

Meandering ant trails of people between stacks of steel and glass.

All weaving in and around.

All carrying green Back to their queen.

Environed by towers of money pressing and pushing into the sky.

Dos ii - In Reach

The horizon prepares to peel open for the sun to emerge

Bright colours of warmth invade the cold sky, then diverge.

An islander peers out from protective cocoon-like lids,

A squinted view of the morning velvet sky. An unstarted day.

Rolling hills fold, bordered by gold, then drop away.

A seemingly endless, deep, dangerous sea forbids.

Ebony eyes view a golden lawn,

Proud fern-filled ridge glows in the dawn.

Onshore zephyrs ripple the calm lagoon,

Fragmenting the reflected golden boon.

Down by the lapping shore a partially drowned

Branch sinks further below the latest mark of brown.

Through the clumps of waving green leaves

In and out of clear vision an image weaves.

Innumerable rainbow birds hop -

Painted myriads of flutterings -

Parrots perched upon treetops,

Pleasantly chirping and chattering.

Soaring above the circular sanctuary island,

A white stream elongates only to dissipate.

High above, Pollution visibly tightens

His repugnant grasp on our life estate.

Tres i - Blind

Through thick and stagnant Grey

I gaze into the cold haze.

A city of lights fades to lustre

The bending Bund, barely visible below.

Constantly sounding and crucial

To the city of eastern trade.

Only the tallest towers emerge -

Clear and prominent -

Reigning above the self-inflicted fog,

The brilliance once below, now

Blind to all.

Sitting under warm dim lights,

Pressing pause on my window view,

A heated fracas draws into sight.

The regents - busy and new -

Talk in heated polytonal cadences,

Over caviar and noodles, tearing the silences.

Abandoning this pointless debate

Between ignorance and ego,

People too inconsiderate

Shield themselves in cocoon-like tuxedos.

Finding peace in their placebos,

Disregarding the clogged pollution outside,

And the dangerous turn of the tide.

Tres ii - Discern

I - Conflict

Stained strings and strands of waving sunset

Barriers, impenetrable and imprisoning.

The sea Invaded by fiery blood.

Dyed with tangerine marble.

The sea

A desert.

Mile-long winding roads of earthy stains,

And speckled spots of oily poison,

Like scars ripping impurity across blue skin

Defacing the once-perfect Mexican Gulf.

Deep, life-filled, but infected With blanketing black gold,

Suffocating the ocean below.

Ochre-coloured islands trap to torture:

Birds land to sink in greasy graves.

Glued to staining plaster,

Feathers of fuel pasted together,

Heavy, slow and struggling.

Enveloped by entrenching oil.

II - Realisation

Wide, glassy eyes and dead straight mouths,

The pilot turned to face his passenger,

To converse a deep sorrow both concealed.

The reporter in speechless horror;

No need for deficient phrases now.

The silent images below sufficed -

Despair a boulder on their hearts and minds.

They watched in shock,

Struck

Stilled

Sombre

Reluctant spectators’ eyes

Fixed to the besmirched disease.

Revulsion clogs minds and ocean,

Affected indefinitely

Ecosystem

Pilot

Passenger

May never recover.

Scarred with dark repugnance, Vile frustration,

Boiling over to fuel anger.

Sparking into inspiration,

Powerfully igniting a surge of resolution.

III - Unity

Stepping out on untrodden ground.

Tentatively walking towards hope,

Forging each stepping stone

From the one behind,

He moves forward.

Dodging poverty and police barricades,

Ducking under discrimination and despair,

Shrugging off apathy, to land

One foot after the last, Until...

He is crippled by widespread and obtuse ignorance,

Blocked by barriers insurmountable to governments

His heart pierced by arrows of animals -

Infected with plastic hurled from industry -

Charging over him as they escape deforestation

Carrying only money in their muscle

No beauty in their movement.

Falling down,

Falling back,

He grips the gritty ground.

And yet,

A patiently urging wind lifts him -

He kneels. Again.

A gentle nudge fills his sails,

Lifting his weight and Filtering his air. He rises. Again

Upright.

Standing

For the future.

Pacing along wastelands and dustbowls,

Wading through floods and perfect storms.

With the courage of Columbus

With the diligence that a fault could mean falling

With the foresight of himself to see the truth

With the relentless persistence of others escaping despair,

Whispers of hope are carried upon his supporting wind.

Across the Yellow River valley: reforestation and restoration

Across Qatar and Jordan: barren wastelands rebirthed

Across the Nullarbor plain: visions of solar farms

Across the Great Dividing Range: windfarms watch over untouched wilderness.

The tributaries of his conviction

Flow from a myriad of springs.

Critical mass accumulates - The one hundred follow his stepping stones -

And at last

Culture begins to shift.

From the news reporter at the climate summit to the teacher guiding students,

From inspirational plastic recyclers to David Attenborough’s regional researchers

From horticulturalists and permaculturists to urban cyclists -

Bustling through peak hour on Boston bike paths.

From national park rangers and world heritage guides,

From parents who love their grandchildren’s grandchildren,

From scientists cradling biodiversity and life’s dazzling complexions:

The rainbow reef patchworks, warm turtle nests, and wandering albatross;

The connected Huon Pine, carved canyons, and enclosed island sanctuaries;

The dense equatorial jungles, folding Himalayas, and doorways of the underground.

The deep-sea dwellers and migrating schools,

The cascading veils of falling rivers,

The stretching strands of golden sands.

As a slow patriot of sustainable change -

Contrails carrying his footprints of hope and endeavour -

Ploughing a path through smoke and weeds

Of which others may follow

Planting seeds

From which others may find the fruit.

As the hopeful Earth watches eagerly:

It dreams of sustainability

Longing for a long future

It prays we will

Walk as one.