By Owen Yingling
If we could see them As they see us Shades of past and Not yet forgotten memories They can only look Unchangeable fragments left And we can only touch Reaching blindly towards a future Yet softly weeping earth I see The vanishing light burnt out How can it have undone so many? Requiem for those to come Can it still bear fruit? Brought up from the depths Of this humbled earth Awoken without a sound No relief from the task Among these tides of bodies As they force their way Ransom paid with their labor Can they make us see? That which will undo so much Dim light flickering Solace from weeping earth
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