By John McConnell
Four billion years ago
Our lonely Earth
Set sail on cosmic seas
Guided by an unseen hand
Of nature, God or chance.
As life evolved
Through endles eco-cycles
Man was born, destined
To destroy or enrich
the Precious Ship.
And now his hand
Has seized the tiller
But his ear has not
Yet caught the Captain's
Quiet command.
The sails are down, the ship becalmed,
Its fragil life at stake.
No longer do we ride the gentle swells of
Silent seas and breathe
The fragrant air.
Broken are the rhythms
Of our cyclic plants
And other living things.
But now the Captain speaks again
Our quiet thoughts at last reveal his voice.
"Hoist the sails, Earth Man.
Set them for celestial winds.
Hold the tiler firm,
The course ahead is clear."
Be He nature, God or chance
His voice is heard
And we shall heed
The Captain's quiet command.
