I want you to be quiet now--so please
just take a breath and hold it. There, be still.
Lean back, savor the feel of grass, the breeze
across your cheek. Consider this green hill
the breast of earth, and you her sleeping child
pulled to her bosom, nurtured on the milk
of clear blue streams. Try to be reconciled
with trout, possom, and deer, your woodland ilk.
How can we have forgotten this? What kind
of monsters caged in glass have we become?
What noise has made us deaf, what smoke struck blind
our ancient eyes? What poison made us numb?
The cure is here, but we so seldom are,
and cannot hear the old songs from afar.
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