The Earth Is The Lord's Poem by Daniel Ionita

Psalm 24: 1

From whence I came I no longer recall.
Now I abide in a place with rocks and waves
Yesterday knew not what was doomed for tomorrow,
but today appears to me like a red island
a continent, a world perhaps, or an opinion –
which remembers vaguely from time to time
of a child from far away, a long time ago,
who was playing with a punctured ball
in the dust of some street
on the outskirts of a forgotten city
surrounded by a boulevard, a park, some drinking fountains.

But for a long time now, I salute gum trees,
and where the ocean plants its kisses, I dip my toes,
thinking that maybe during some tomorrow,
which would forget of yesterday and all its woes,
and does not care of countries, cities, oceans...
the universe will sprout anew, and God,
appearing finally to collect the rent,
will stop this nonsense of geography
and history, and stuff...
... so many confusing oceans, puzzling countries,
in which the children, like cherry trees in cherry orchards,
cannot think of gum trees.
Children, perhaps like the eucalyptus trees,
they think it’s them alone, who kick around a punctured ball,
who watch the sun over some ocean.

I am myself, a continent here and there,
and then I am some cities,
perhaps cherry tree, a eucalyptus,
a stone somewhere, an ocean shore.
Or maybe several... because
the thought of being just one continent,
or crossing just one ocean or two, of owning just one country,
it feels like the tight coffin lid has been nailed in,
and I can’t breath - and push and SCREAM!
One country, even two, or three... Too few! –
as this is such a claustrophobic curse!

For thus were singing all those bards of yore:
The earth is the Lord’s, and everything on it.