A friendly planet, where
such as we can find footing,
they say is rather rare.
With all our plundering, looting
and stupid hate run wild
what child
will dare to hazard birth
on what we make of Earth?
such as we can find footing,
they say is rather rare.
With all our plundering, looting
and stupid hate run wild
what child
will dare to hazard birth
on what we make of Earth?
Shall we be, then,
stray points of consciousness
that once were man and woman,
afloat in spatial wilderness,
seeking for hospitable soil
where once again
we can begin the long slow toil
toward being human?
[Published in “A Square Inch of Space” (1974)]
All of Sibyl’s poetry published to date on this website can be seen in these posts:
