New year, new words

I have been revisiting and revising some of the poems/songs I have written. Here are two that highlight the climate crisis and our response to it. 
 
 Birth
 
 From stardust love has come to birth.
 The cosmic clouds contained the seed
 of life to grow upon the earth
 so love evolved at nature’s speed.
 
 From molecule to single cell 
 life multiplied, spread everywhere.
 First formed beneath the ocean swell 
 life changed and moved to land and air 
 
 From dinosaur to chimpanzee
 each species played a vital part
 as life evolved and came to be
 a piece of love’s creative art.
 
 From Africa to Artic snow
 our human form now spans the earth.
 Will we find ways to make peace grow
 and so bring love to a new birth?
 
 (Suggested tune: Gonfalon royal)
 

 Earth vocations
 
 The crisis of earth means we all have a mission
 each with a gift for the role we must live;
 believe you have strength to take on the commission
 to save precious life by the service you give.
 
 The needs of the earth are not bounded by borders
 so speak to all powers as prophets of truth;
 and go to the ends of the earth under orders
 with courage, compassion and hope as did Ruth.*
 
 The future of earth needs us all to be daring,
 so use every talent and show every skill
   take heart from all those whose vocations we’re sharing
 and make every effort with heart and strong will.
 
 The nature of earth is to nurture new creatures
 so welcome each stranger and offer them peace;
 safeguard the abandoned, and be their kind teachers,
 be generous in giving and love without cease.
 
 (Suggested tune: The Bard of Armagh)
 
 * Ruth could refer to the Moabite who went with her mother-in-law to another country. Or to Ruth Bader Ginsberg who was a highly respected American Supreme Court Judge or to any other Ruth who inspires with courage and conviction. 
 

 

One comment on “New year, new words

  1. Poetry is a good way to express how it feels to live in a world where nature is suffering. Here’s my offering on a similar theme.

    No feather bed

    Angel of the North you stand awake.
    Iconic guardian, I have travelled the breadth of England to look up to you, reaching your steel wings above Gateshead’s mines and factories.
    Forged from metals,
    gouged from Earth,
    heated, melted, formed.
    Cooled in Siberian winds where ice melts. You look down, balanced, static, still on endless A1 traffic, moving freely, frantic with Western addiction to endless destructive growth.
    We know ancient eastern tales of your kind. An angel foretelling a birth, a proclamation ‘Peace on Earth’, a warning given in Joseph’s dream-
    danger,
    murder,
    flee,
    protect.
    Your stand is silent like the cross. Your beam, rooted in solid ground, steel girdered, nailed in place, open winged a wide embrace. Symbol of suffering strength you crown a tended hill.
    You lift my eyes to skies where seagulls fly, swinging on air currents, glorying in life’s immensity, taking me beyond the place where sea and city meet, to ancient, folded hills and Hadrian’s barricades, from fishing waters borderless to oil rich beds of shale. I sense them skimming high, knowing nothing, loving life in each glorious rich moment,
    Wild,
    pure.
    Free
    Their cries from on high echoes the wind in your outstretched wings.
    Here no feather pillow allowed,
    No peace in complicity
    No rest in complacency.
    Stillness comes with grief, Movement brings relief.

    Bernie Jordan 11.12.20

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