A Sonnet to Burning Earth

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The dances of ashes as the flames fall,
Transforming into coal, so red, so warm,
From the corpse of the wood, no smoke at all.
No grey tail in the sky; none left to warn.
From a cradle of life, now darkness, death.
T’was our own hand, set this forest a flame,
Gave no thought to future, what would be best.
Our own hand set it, none other to blame.
“Is there no hope left for the burning earth?”
We wander wailing. How much do we help?
One finger lifted, to green we’d give birth.
What we do wondering about the self.
God’s green earth; we must care for our mother.
The same way, we must love one another.

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