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We’re running out of time

How hard they try to make the earth

An unimportant place, a place that's

Surely replicated many times in space.

But no, so far there are no signs that

Might give cause for thought, no planets

Found on which is served ‘Roast beef’,

Horseradish sauce’?


How hard they try to make the earth

A common humdrum place, but every

Answer they opine there's something

Out of place. It's not so much that there

Are Gods, but more that there's a mind,

A thinking process going on, that

Changes things with time.


A curious form of energy, a wisdom

Life inclined, a thousand years is but

One day, so time is on its side. There's

A lengthy contemplation, before the

Need to act, but in the end it's woe

Betide the wicked and the mad,


You can feel it in the air sometimes,

Hear it on the wind, a chattering in

Space and time, a feedback sort of

Thing. Be still one night and listen,

You may hear a whispered voice, a

Curious form of energy embedded in

White noise.


A finely balanced planet, in a finely

Balanced place, a garden, an oasis,

A unique home in space. A place so

Very special, what fool would dare

Deny, the melting ice, the rising seas,

We’re running out of time.


© Joseph G Dawson
04/11/2019 and earlier


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