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For We Are Made of the World |
As the world keeps turning,
It could be turning its back on me.
For not having stood up,
In the face of catastrophe.
My species has spoiled all relations
And started to take for free
Never giving nor returning,
To the source of its worldly needs.
As all of the actions we take on
Are due to come round again
The earth has been left to take carbon
Where it can scarcely return oxygen.
Put up a sign at a parking space,
Saying, ‘Give Trees a Chance’
Then people who see it, can stir a breeze with it
In a whirlwind romance.
This was never a place for parking,
Ecosystems go round and round,
The sand and the seas,
And air with breeze,
Doesn’t stand or sit down.
A point has come in relations
Where compassion has got to kick in,
If we burn and we cut,
If we spill and we block,
Then the sources we’ve got,
Will go out of stock,
And we’ll die and we’ll rot,
Decompose on the spot,
Because creation has got,
To Begin
Again.
The world is what you make of it
For we are made of the world
It evolves what it needs
To continue to be,
Imperfections in time die out.
As the world keeps on turning
It may be turning its back on me
I’m taking the fall because my species absolved
Sense of responsibility.
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