I thought this poem appropriate considering the turmoil and suffering in Ukraine beginning last evening.
(photo by Carma Evans)

“In the end—we find that any person or entity cannot own water; it can only be borrowed.”

“we must be the waters… unpretentious as a river”

“climate change means a far longer march…”

“But when I look upon her—I still see an endless home. Perched on vast grey wings of the unconditional love of all life—a perfect grace of water, earth, and sky…”

“her soft skin is drying out
withered into bronze scales
beneath a fiery vacuous sun…”

“So—how do we ever describe the solitudes of night
to a world with itching ears and pixelated eyes?”

“tonight—my smudged ochre sun
fell from his perch of smoky despair…”