The Voices of the Earth

I yearn to speak the words that sit on the tip of your tongue

I know I’ve hurt your waters, your leaves
I’ve left my mess on your shoulders, and weighed you down
I’ve taken all your fruit, all your hidden rivers
And in return I’ve given you the empty bottles that float in your arms
I’ve choked your beautiful dwellers
I’ve stolen their homes, I’ve set your trees on fire to make more room for my own
I’ve used your fields for torture, I’ve left innocent blood on your land
I’ve filled your skies with thick black smoke, and stolen your emerald blues
And now you’re starting to break, as I search for another place
I’ve denied your sickness, I’ve silenced your birds from telling the truth

And now...
I yearn to speak the words on the tip of your tongue
The ones we can barely hear, because you’re too ill, and time towers over your soul as you croak
“Let me live another year”