You’re hearing daily, tipping point,
titanic struggle, about face,
what lurks beneath, once out of sight,
is clearer now for all to know.
We feared the underworld - best cloaked -
but bergs break, floating in the melt,
and undercurrents making waves
as latent heat is swelling seas,
our islands sunk in water grave.
Will white bears hunt where brown have been?
As crow’s nest lookout warns ahead
some claim they cry out wolf again,
sure prophecies of doom misled
and we must preserve privilege;
there is no profit, dying earth,
our birth-right sold for pottage mess.
Yet few, it seems, will meet the cost,
except our children’s children, loss.
Published by The Poet Magazine Anthology ‘Our Changing Earth’ https://www.thepoetmagazine.org
And there's the proof of Poetry's worth, its power and purpose. Your words convey with precision and economy, the emotion and urgency needed to trip the mind from its mundane treadmill thought in a way protests and data-science never will. Thank you Steven.
It is indeed sad and desperate legacy we are leaving for our children. Well said Stephen.