Poem

Falling

In these awe-filled days of fire and flood
We watch and wait and wonder
When that fierce hand
Might reach at last for us.

Those of us not yet touched by calamity
Quake, knowing in our bones
That though we may be spared
This time, time will level us all.

No magic amulets, no prayers,
Good deeds or good looks
Can promise protection
From our terminal condition.

And those who have watched a child
Swept forever from our arms
Or fled the flames that swallowed
Our hopes and our memories

Or hid from the bombs
Or the predator’s gaze
Know that nothing now will ever be the same –
As if anything ever were.

For all of us are falling
Like ashes, like rain,
Like petals or leaves;
But we all are falling together.

And if we knew, in truth,
There was nowhere to land,
Tell me: could we know the difference
Between falling and flying?

About Larry Robinson

Larry Robinson is a retired ecopsychologist and former Mayor of Sebastopol, California. He is the founder and producer of Rumi’s Caravan, an ensemble of poets and musicians dedicated to restoring the oral tradition of poetry. Larry currently serves on the board of directors of the Center for Climate Protection and on the board of trustees for Meridian University.

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