Words:

“Zea Mays”

“Thou art the zea mays throughout the field,

green aphids of the sky,

sea urchins clasping deep,

microorganisms in our sleep,

sounds of Ganymede and Sun,

ineffable valleys we can run,

if I told you:

‘hath barely begun,

feathers, scales, spiderwebs spun,

would thee death, destroy, annihilation shun?’

thou cannot holdst a climate cracker to the Earth,

and be fully quaffing in thou mirth,

we art, look! for harmony with birth,

not thee over-polluted scourge,

give thought,

sing decree,

bring peoples happy-sighed relief.”

a poem by Matt The Unfathomable Artist, © 6th February 2022.