Clear view the trees see
ever aware, travesty laid bare.
So at our peril we dismiss
this stark reminder of our remiss.
Early leaf bud's first seen burst to bequeath;
soon followed by floods of green
red, yellow and brown to follow,
as fallen leaves reveal the elegance beneath.
Wraiths grace the view across valley's slope,
ghostly grey skeletal flame-shaped spears,
all their intent over eons now so clear;
still hope to negate the chaos we create.
Here lines of conflict drawn
across these broad reactive valleys;
not back where pollution's spawned
but here the battle's joined.
Fixed in the mind's eye
ever etched is their silent cry
upon chaos of our creation;
those omens no longer defied.
We at jeopardy's door ignore
the silent voice that abhors
how we spoil and blight
despite their efforts to restore.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem