In this world where we were once
ocean and now we walk the shore,

do we really end where the leaf begins?

St.Francis (the one animals loved)
didn’t think so. “Brother Sun,

Sister Moon,” he said. Remember
the night sky when we sat around fires

before we dimmed the stars?

Now wildflowers flash in sunlight
as trucks blow past,

fish under water wonder what is holy
and what is not, and we still ask

whether the elephant truly grieves
the loss of her calf.

The the stars have never
sanctioned a war,

the trees and the rain falling
through leaves always refuse

to take sides; mountains
hurling hot stones in the air

hold no malice inside.

It’s hard see our tribe choosing
love over gain,

peace over pain, or learning
to be ocean again.

And yet somewhere,
ten thousand birds rise into air,

soaring together feather to feather,
and the wolf limping

to her burrow tonight will open
her green eyes to the morning light.