December 19, 2009

Black curtain descends on COP 15: A bleak future

Trees sway in disjointed rhythm in the great Amboseli
The birds sing no more in the massive Mara
The crickets cry cannot be heard tonight
The lion’s roar in the Tsavo barely a murmur!

The earth watches in utter disbelief
Words frozen on their parted lips
Faces contorted in a mix of sadness and uncertainty

They buried my dream…..
Shall I dream no more?
They sounded a deathnell;
Shall I no more breathe?

Thoughts of what could have been
Memories of the passions this evoked
A million miles and a million hopes

What shall I tell them?
When we no longer have water;
When daily we queue for relief food;
When biodiversity is enshrined in myth and legend!
Of the ‘good old’ days,
Of plentiful flora and fauna
Of water in seas and snow on mountains

What shall I say?

Shall I say I watched in maladroit silence
Frozen in a quasi-cacophonic state?
Or shall I rant and rave?

It’s the beginning of the end,
Or an end to the beginning!



1 comment :

  1. Words froozen indeed on their parted words.... its a great thing they froozze in the minus degree... ehat was gonna come out of the lips would have melted the ice and caused we the Africans to drawn...and submerge in the cold waters.. thanks God the words frooze in their lips... good poem winnie!!