Looking out my high-rise window
I can see shy Beauty
of civilly responsible
bird sheltering trees

Five of these
tunneling through man-made holes
in monotonously grey cement
step aside walks.

Lonely in my city window
I can see the desecrating drama
and trauma
inflicted on Gaia’s organic integrity

Toxic shelters
treacherous streets
polluting smokestacks

Oil and gas fueled
Made In America
uncivil lack of holy natural
safe shelter.

Longing in my caged window
I can hear sirens screaming
and a car alarm
warning us it feels threatened
by incorporated investments

In pain
dispassion
pollution
anthropocentric dissolution.

On less barren days
when looking out this same window
I feel freer to learn
from trauma’s malformed mystery

Looking up
at Gaia’s heavenly sky
less troubled by unearthly anthro-hubris
as compared to trans-continental
pocked landscapes.

I notice how I feel
when looking outside
at the boarded-up house
across the street

As compared to
the organically organized green park
behind it
filled with sacred sheltering trees

Now quieting Earth’s suffering
by singing with Her
up-reaching crowns of rooted trees
dancing to a holy breeze.