0321 From A Drop, Of Gasolene Poem by Michael Shepherd

Did you notice
as you put the nozzle back in place
after filling your tank today,
a drop, of oil, of gasoline, of petrol
fell on the stained and stony ground?

did you hear – no, surely it couldn’t be –
the faintest sound then, almost
as if it came from somewhere on that ground?

It was my voice.

Millions, billions of years ago
I was a tree
reaching upward from the blessing of the soil
to the blessing of the sun
in silent worship of our nature
and the God who planned it thus

I grew, spread my branches wide in gratitude,
sang my silent song of praise,
grew old and died, with a sigh heard through the forest,
not of regret but of a life well lived
falling into God’s peace;
knowing that in His divine mercy
I had laid down my life
for future generations, in the perfection
of the cycle of all Creation.

The years passed; and mankind
in its desire to move further, faster, more often, cheaply, then
with the help of God’s mind in mankind's own mind, dreamed up
the automobile; and needed then its combustible life-blood,
this miracle liquid made before man named miracles

so as I lie, a dropp of gasoline catching the sun
or the harsh lights of gas-station forecourt
know this: my love for you