The Emotional Life Of Earth Poem by Alla Bozarth

“My people were suspicious of paradise.”
Garrison Keillor in Lake Wobegon

Mother Earth deserves a break
from our misuse. In fact, she’s earned
a lifelong rest. Yet, she endures us
still, though we must keep her
perpetually perplexed.

We are babies assuming
our mother’s voice is babble,
knowing only our own,
which to us is perfectly
rational.

There is more here
than meets the I,
and over time—
time by the eons—
human beings may
come to know
that everyone else here
is made of soul,
including the Whole.


This poem is from the book The Frequency of Sound
by Alla Renée Bozarth, copyright 2011. All rights reserved.