The Great Blue Heron lifts into the sky
and gazes at her once environment
taken by those who cannot hope to fly,
and the small patch they forwent
and wonders if they will ever repent
for what nature knows as their treachery.
We say that harm was never our intent,
but we know this will be our legacy
We ignore nature, continue to try
to accumulate more, brook no dissent
from species to whom we now say goodbye.
We claim that we never meant to torment
any creatures but we dare not relent
from God’s gift of command over all we see
and if some must perish in our ascent
We know that this will be our legacy
Yet we wait for the birds as night draws nigh
drink in their beauty and then soon lament
their dwindling numbers but we still stand by
offering hollow words, our tears unspent
for we are blind to all but the present
moment and deaf to nature’s heartfelt plea
for our dominion is with God’s assent
We know that this will be our legacy
But nature can now foresee our descent
into the very hell we have set free
our doom we can no longer circumvent
We know that this will be our legacy
—
Louis Faber is a poet and writer living in Florida with his wife (a fellow poet) and their cat (their editor). His work has appeared widely in the U.S., Canada, Europe, and India and in Cantos, The Poet (U.K.), Alchemy Spoon, Dreich (Scotland), Tomorrow and Tomorrow, Defenestration, Atlanta Review, Glimpse, Rattle, Pearl, The South Carolina Review and Worcester Review, among others, and was twice nominated for a Pushcart Prize.
