We Will Weep For What Has Been Lost Poem by Raymond Farrell

I grew up
In a county in eastern Ontario
Where the largest town
Only had 9000 people
My parents came off farms
To work in the nearby town
But an uncle and cousins
Still farmed nearby
There were great treks of forest
Throughout the county
Where nature still had its way
Huge oaks, maples and pine trees
Grew up and down limestone escarpments
When one of these aged giants died
Saplings from the forest floor
Raced to reach the hole in the canopy
Trying to find their place in the sun
One would eventually prevail
And tower over its peers
That is the truth and harshness of nature
On the other hand
Today, when I see
Man made forests
Trees planted at the same time
Growing in neat rows
All of uniform size
There is an appeal
In the orderliness
That may speak to my subconscious
Because of how the education system
Has indoctrinated me
But when I pause and reflect
I realize there are no giants
In these commercial groves
Standing above their fellows
It is a scene of conformity
A uniform, calm, measured
Stand of something tamed
For purely commercial reasons
And we too, you and I
Are not unlike these trees
In our conformity and habits
Which drive us, in varying degrees
To keep this consumerism going
And all at the expense
Of what is natural
Someday there may be
No giants in the forests
And our grandchildren will look at old pictures
And marvel that such wonders ever existed
And if we are still alive
We will weep
For what has been lost.