hinarising

Day 7

First view,

Iconic view of you,

Blue Earth Rising

Out of a void of man’s unknowing.

Who would know what lay below,

From up above those graceful, swirling, dancing spirals

Like salty lipped sailors dancing jigs and singing

Placid sea shanties in hollow voices,

Mourning women left at home,

With guitars wrapped in aged leather

Sails down, fluttering,

The slap of waves on hull,

Under sunset skies

They care not for an hour, a minute,

Or an increment of fossil fuel achievements

Or manned insects with hammers and wires

Boots, and steel,

Hard hats braced for the advancement of times,

Or space-aged, oil-spewing black

Blood in spurts,

Her energy depleted

In wasteland dumps,

Draining deep pockets of ancient sunlight,

Drilling irreversibly, driving further, faster

Mechanically, methodically without question

To man this rocket up to space to take that shot

Of you,

No,

No,

They care only

When all the sky was blue

And the ocean source

Of life to all,

Soft, pastel, vibrant

A Mother rocking children

In lullabies of peaceful rhythms

In timeless space,

In the paradox of seeing you

Face to face.

April 7, 2014