Dear Mother Earth,
Sorry for cutting down all your trees
You really missed them
Their branches draped with thick green leaves
Reached out to you as they fell
But you couldn’t do anything to ease the pain
Sorry for polluting your rivers and streams
You never saw them clean again
The waves reached out to you with slippery hands
Drenched in bitter tears
But nothing you did could help them
Sorry for killing your animals
You wished to hear their calls again
Your eyes brimmed with tears as you saw them struggle
Losing an everlasting battle
You turned away in shock and sadness
Being strong is difficult
And you collapse under immense pressure
When everything seems lost
I hope you might see a glimmer of hope
Sorry for causing pain and trouble
Please do not desert us
Because we need you
Without you we shall perish
Yet when we perish you recover and benefit
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Green walks on black and white,
a sprout emerges from newspaper.
On the lonesome canvas
dried with the smell of
a branch strokes the
green veins shake,
roots tense marking their place.
From the canvas,
none can see any but ebony
streaked with a muted white,
The speck of green
protected from the prying eyes
of the paintbrush.
The palette wears only navy and charcoal,
contrasting the oak wood,
longing for warmth.
On the easel edges,
A million candle wicks point skyward,
kissing the dark horizon.
Light and warmth
scrape the surface of the art
ink themselves into scrabble letters.
H O P E
A million sprouts
emerge from the gallery,
one for each of the million
via Daily Prompt: Hopeful