Macrocosm

As I stand here on this mountain ledge, I let myself become one with the earth. The wind blowing through my hair... The sound of the soaring eagle... The crackle of wolves feet on the fallen branches... the sun beating down on my face...

I slowly start to lower my body to the ground, as though not to disturb the rocks and earth. Now just sitting at this ledge with my legs out over the side... I listen to everything around me. The soaring eagle swooping down to catch a fish out of the crystal lake below, or the young wolf pups playing behind the pack. I set my hands on the ground beside me and feel all the hurt. Her people stopped caring and started polluting. Trash lays along her ditches, while oil spills across her rivers. Tears come to my eyes as I realize no one cares. The pups stop playing and run off, the eagle flies away and all I hear is silence, nothing but her dead silence.

By: Angela M. Crabtree

May 4,2002