Slim and trim and sleek and suave is
what they hoped to be,
Esteemed, admired and sought by all,
"Best dressed of all," said she.
With furs ad finery to shape their her
figures lean and bold,
A social register to make, all masked a
heart ice cold.
Each whim or stylish fad of time that
fashion might dictate,
A selfish hand reached forth to grasp,
their ego to inflate.
And then one night a dream took shape,
they stood upon a plane,
Where earth and time rolled back the
years, each moment to reclaim.
They watched those hands of time
reverse, unneeded furs were shed,
A white coat floated from each form,
to seals no longer dead,
They saw a parents rich brown eyes
awaken as in dream,
From nightmares that had rode the floe,
the pups were white and clean.
No more their naked bodies lay, in
bloodied splattered snow,
No more the sealers sullen ships,
waited by the floe.
No more were mothers brutalized
protecting babes they bore,
No longer did the voice of doom decree
their death in gore.
She saw the years these hapless slaves
provided fuel and food,
Cosmetic oils to smooth their hands,
and warm coats for the cool.
If this be dreams, let me awake, this
is so sad for me,
Let me awake that I may help those
helpless from the sea.
Fast forward on the tapes of time
showed writing on the wall,
The numbered days of many forms, she
heard their desperate call.
The mercury poisoned waterways no fish
or birds should use,
Life's fragile chain of smaller forms,
so carelessly abused.
Those dwindling numbers herded back,
she marked their areas small,
The elephants hard pressed for space,
the songbirds lingering call,
Man called it progress, asked for more,
demanded death for all -
Who hindered his voracious lust for
money making sprawl.
As psychic symbols moved to view, a
silver chord appeared,
That blended every form of life, their
balance to revere.
For when man slashed at Mother Earth,
her roots were wounded too,
A lifeline touching psychic needs, for
peace and values true.
The poisons seeped into both souls that
carelessly were thrown,
As waste in Mother Nature's store, a
store that was his own,
She watched man join the march of death
whose slow and ghastly pace,
Marched through a vale of drugs and
tears, mutations sad disgrace.
For with man's plunder of the earth,
the poisoned soil and air,
No more could bring the needs of
health, from nature's squandered fare.
But hope may spring eternal still and
change to better ways,
The dream declared that love and care
could bring a better day.
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