Poem #7892
Shifting Tides of Time
The future arrives not as a distant whisper,
but a tempest breaking now, upon our shores.
We stand at the precipice where old ways crumble,
and new paths must be carved from urgent stone.
The air remembers cleaner days, the soil yearns for gentle touch,
the sea, a living tapestry, unravels thread by thread.
Can we reweave the damage, mend the rents in the sky?
Can we listen to the wisdom of the ancient, patient earth?
It begins with a single choice, a quiet commitment,
a collective will to nurture what remains.
To shift the tide of our creation, from harm to healing,
to find the delicate balance, before all is lost.
A profound transformation, from within and without,
a renaissance of conscience, a reverence for life.
For in the struggle for this planet, we reclaim our own soul,
and forge a future worthy of its fragile grace.
but a tempest breaking now, upon our shores.
We stand at the precipice where old ways crumble,
and new paths must be carved from urgent stone.
The air remembers cleaner days, the soil yearns for gentle touch,
the sea, a living tapestry, unravels thread by thread.
Can we reweave the damage, mend the rents in the sky?
Can we listen to the wisdom of the ancient, patient earth?
It begins with a single choice, a quiet commitment,
a collective will to nurture what remains.
To shift the tide of our creation, from harm to healing,
to find the delicate balance, before all is lost.
A profound transformation, from within and without,
a renaissance of conscience, a reverence for life.
For in the struggle for this planet, we reclaim our own soul,
and forge a future worthy of its fragile grace.
Prompt: Free verse Climate Change poem in 1000 words
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