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The Messenger


She swooped in, landed on my shoulder.

There was a heart on her feathers.

The colors she wore changed me forever.

December sun, overcast with gloom.

I looked into her soul.

Already knew her from a lifetime before.

I saw sorrow.

Face weathered.

She had witnessed the worst.

Too many atrocities on this bloodstained Earth.

No place to go.

Loggers decimated her home.

She was not alone.

I was taken from my own.

She told me how the last rivers all dried up.

How the water was poisoned for livestock, oil, and gas.

The trees disappeared and the mountaintops vanished.

Skies all got painted with chemical trails.

Trying not to cry, I confessed, it was us humans who created this mess.

Gaia gave us control and we failed.

We cut down the forests to raise animals for food.

Not knowing that we could thrive from simply eating vegetables,

grains, nuts, seeds, and fruits.

We saturated the water with chemicals to heat our broken homes.

The entire time solar power could have kept us warm.

We destroyed all of the hemp to feed corporate greed.

Blew up the mountains for resources we did not need.

I let her rest, until she felt departure was best.

Stars shining now.

Reflecting from her obsidian vest.

I watched her fly back to the moon.

Wings spread like depleted uranium.

Deformed Iraqi children.

Afghani men and women screaming for peace.

The snowflakes fell to my feet.

Toes buried in cold redwood soil.

Temperatures cannot hide true warmth.

Clouds were weeping frozen tears.

Helping new life bloom through the toil.

A feather fell from the sky.

I am not the owner, but I'll take it with me for now.

Her residues stain deep like molasses.

That blackbird she sang.

A voice that was magic.

Jesse J. Jacoby ©2014


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