Hysterical Sheep in Conversation With Gary Snyder 40 Years On. Poem by Susan Adams

Perhaps the stars are tough
our land-grab eyes see only magic in the skies
but burnt-out hearts know the speed
of planets leaving.

The tread is not silent or benign, each footprint wounds.
When we stop the noise and listen our DNA trembles.
We are old souls and know the rhythms.

Coyote, Tuna, Koala, Turtle, Tiger, PolarBear,
trees gracing land, deep water rivers.
Who shares their ways with us now.
What altar is left for the sun.
Where can the clear air breeze our song.

More metal than bird in the dust bitten heavens
land is centrifuged and levelled
peeled meadows and mines are the new agriculture
sea waters lose their food and rise.

Anger in the name of freedom must swell
let's serve ourselves with knowledge
indulge our needs to live free, clean, true
with a heartbeat in time with its birth.

The spin is fast, and faster
science is kicked for quick answers.
We are shapes manipulated by masks
justifying actions.
Rationalism is the new moral.
Earth's jaws will be huge and hungry.

We lie in the ground with gold coins on our eyes
as expendable as this smoking planet.