Child

Overhead
a plane carries dreary City Minds
hurrying to get away
from the bleak square buildings
Pointed. Sharp. Bitter to the eyes
We are here below
Child, do not watch in silent awe
as the City Minds fade from view
across the rolling downy clouds;
They think happiness comes only from distant shores,
Locked,
Entwined in the fibres of their paper tickets
I tell you, there are other bleak square buildings
and other dreary City Minds
awaiting their arrival
Child, will you sit on this naked ground
Lie here with me in the dirt
and let a tired insect land upon your leg?
Feel the touch of tender grass brush against your calloused fingertips
Embrace the rich crumbling soil
as it embraces you.
O, such a sight for any City Mind
a scene for any film
as the gold sun rises
pasting the fields with honey
warming your bones
Hear the choir of sparrows sing
Bidding the world to waken
and our old Oaks shiver in delight
so many colours that you cannot paint them green
Yet, in the distance, the black ominous smog
creeps nearer
We know it, Child; the farmers keep on working
Faster. Greater. More.
The World demanding more and the farmers' backs go brittle
It tries to rape her
But her mighty weeds tear
and her wise roots thrust
Through cavities in concrete floors
Inconveniencing the foot
A global warning
that, although we won't,
She will prevail.