Poetry: WhatWeOweOnOurOwnHomeOurOwn True Home

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A lost star ailing… fuels lost
And we’ve yet to be a star?
We’re only a tiny planet
Who’s finance is spent
Who’s ship, who’s heart…

Takes in more water than can be bailed
Take so much disparate rhtymns and misteps of lub
When it must be dub?
When hope wears out in
Windless doldrums
Without end
Emptied commerce sails

Murmurs, rythmnless, even…
Too little blood to breathe
In free fall, or is it renewal?
How great our recent heights
How limitless seems bottomlesness

To where we keep falling and
Falling and how once never a limiting
Of ego’s greed… Cut down to our own need
We might prevail and hear it fast approaching
Threatening, redefining, making mayhem of everything…
And once and for all may it be real…

Regreening honoring sharing life that gives
Life that gives life that gives life’s turning
to an unpayable debt, not just on our homes but of the womb of the land
that makes us possible. What we owe on our own home, our own true home…
What we most owe is that all that lives must have a home…

DeaneTR
2-22-09