The peoples have left the lighted paths
feel now their way with outstretched hands
along choked and darkened roads
city slithering alleys, ruined country lanes.
Behind them they hear disturbed voices
a babble of whispered tongues speaking
what was, could have been, may be.

The ground become a shaking wilderness
changing, unknown and new, boiling
as darkness eclipses a failing light.
A gloaming gathers in heavy folds
weighing down, turbulent, roiling.

Bleak the countryside, the burning fields
ruined trees of ash and smoke;
the drowned land, the melting ice,
animals set adrift in unknown seas.
Fare-thee-well and so sorry
to have forgotten and lost you.

What has become the solace of green gardens
freshets of bubbling life from cold streams
swirling down from glaciered mountains?
Where the sweet murmur of silent prayer –
faith, hope, love, sacred forgiveness –
becoming light within a child’s dream?

What world will the people choose
having so much lost and still to lose?
And I – what will I choose
within the light of knowledge I possess
of what I’ve done and failed to do?

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Portland, Oregon – August 19, 2019