Regime Change

How like a child to know that being free
to taste the wind, is the unbidden source
of art, of what life means, that joy is there.
How fair, a thousand wheels above the earth
that sing upon the hills, that gifted from
the air, relay its strength and redirect its power.

How much of truth that trees may breathe again,
that fish may frolic in the ripples that
the stones create in flashing mountain streams,
that caribou will graze upon a plain
though far away, still undefiled.

How deep the melancholy of the earth
to learn the incarnation went awry
and it was man who rose up from the sod,
a metamorph, a true sardonic sire,
an avaricious god.
~