My Small Corner of the World - June 20 2022

 

My Small Corner of the World

June 20 2022

I am discouraged

by the state of the world.

Superstition is rampant

unkindness holds sway.

The atmosphere warms

oceans degrade.

The planet wobbles

as more battles rage,

and Atlas stumbles

bent under its weight.

Or is it turtles

all the way down?

Swimming blind

in foul water

we are responsible for.

Dominion, the Bible says,

unclear

if this is stewardship

or suzerainty.

But either way

we have proven ourselves unworthy;

of both the planet

and our fellow man.

So I'm thinking small

accepting my powerlessness.

Taking refuge

in simple domesticity,

my little patch

of tranquil green earth,

this lover

this garden

this modest house.

Grateful

for these small fulfilling gifts,

yet still guilty

I have not done more.

Nevertheless, I've left the lawn untended.

Because less is more.

Because where is it said

grass must be manicured

weeds dutifully cut?

Because I've had more than enough

of mowing, pruning, feeding

keeping nature at bay.

Instead, I'm letting her reclaim

what's rightfully hers.

A small corner of the world

left as it was.

Weeds are running riot

the grass has gone to seed.

Tiny frogs hunker

down in the shade,

and garter snakes slither

with silky supple grace.

Nocturnal creatures burrow

into black fertile soil,

and fat glistening worms

churn through its depths

stirring and enriching it.

And I am amazed

how quickly nature returns,

swallowing up

all signs of my presence,

all the wasted effort

I so conscientiously took.

Another self-indulgent poem written out of my feeling of deep despair.