The Future in Five Verses

Give some tree the gift of green again.
Let one bird sing.
When Autumn Came, Faiz Ahmed Faiz

Give some tree the gift of green again.
Let one bird sing.
As the world spins,
stoking the flames of ruin,
forests burn,
and screams are choked by smoke.

Give some tree the gift of green again.
Thunder rumbles its displeasure,
rain falling on barren land,
dotted with skeletons of trees,
arms extended pitifully,
in the hot, dusty breeze.

Let one bird sing.
Homes felled in a single swoop,
bulldozed into clean patches,
concrete prisons built.
Still the birds fly back,
inhabitants turned intruders,
hover anxiously around their nests,
calling out for life that used to be.

Viscous oil spills into clear waters,
waves wash up plastic carcasses,
the turtle chokes on a straw,
and I drive to the store,
noxious fumes trailing in my wake,
buy boxes of juice,
to quench my thirst.

Soon, the only colours we know,
will be the shades of disaster,
as temperatures soar,
the inferno spreads.
The plea becomes more earnest,
before we are cast off into the abyss,
please,
give some tree the gift of green again.
Let one bird sing.