Clearing out Clutter – why?

I suppose it all started to spill out in writing during February 2013 when, upon hearing of a sudden death, I had the occasion to consider the legacy we leave to future generations.

Recently prompted by my eldest daughter to clear out clutter I now begin in the best place to start – my mind.

This is the poem that started it all in February 2013 ……….

Inheritance

You sit on my lap and I rub your head, laying you down in to your warm cosy bed

I look at your face and it is all a glow, innocently smiling, not needing to know

When you are my age will you look back and wonder why your ancestors felt the need to plunder?

Why didn’t they stop while they still had a chance, dancing around, the consumerist dance

 

A legacy of greed, of buying and selling, where lies and deceit was all they were telling

A land once proud, free and nobel, lost as a pawn in an economy gone global

Why are you cold while the men guard the woods, sold by a handful of greedy no goods

Why is the water unsafe to drink, as fracking filled chemicals flow into the sink

 

When you are my age will you look back and curse the people that plundered to fill up their purse

Will you rue the day they first struck oil, bringing industry, growth and dis ease to our soil

Why did mankind feel the need to burn, to consume, to advance at every turn

Feel the need to spray, to extract and exhaust the beauty of nature at such a high cost

 

Why did energy come with such a dire price compromising the climate despite so much advice

With all of this change at such a fast pace species have gone without hardly a trace

How could you know what’s happening the trees, the plants, the animals, the birds and the bees

Piece by piece they are fading away, gone from our sights a little more every day

 

Is it fair to be leaving you to pick up the pieces, to adapt and survive as with all other species

Without the bees to pollinate your food, resource wars and water no good

So I kiss you my roosters, monkey, dog and little ox, knowing the peril of my little flock

Then I promise I will do all that I can to bring about some sense, an awakening in man

 

Theresa O’Donohoe February 2013

 


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