Green waves drip into the earth furrowed deep by long shuffled Jove
Aging invisibly through millennia like their sedimentary brothers
Upon this stasis held landscape once there roamed other furrowers
Smaller in stature and not knowing of the soulless, metal constructs of the future
Those usurpers in times not come, that would arrive and end this wholesome vision
What else would be and what has been lost?
A time framed by smokeless skies, except where the wisps of innocent survival coil high
Mixing dutifully with the clean beyond like the salty, big blue mixes with the dull tributaries
Black with the ghosts of dry life, and thinned with that which feeds life
Twisting and entwining and rushing from their inferno of a grave
Sacrificing itself involuntarily to give warmth and sustenance
What else is in this picture and where is this place?
These great cresting forests and peaceful little towns ride the Ocean on a Jagged stillness
A land of Tribes and treasure trapped now in antiquity and lost
A time of still travel and unchanged moods where innocence longs for
But memory renders this lusted for land a possibility for imagination and speech
To tell of this place, is like mentioning a heaven of years past
What was it like and who was there?
Gray spires pierce the golden green horizon which itself is divided by straight, rough edges
Eden's early inhabitants roam the waving seams with loose shackles
Providing those who provide it with laws, with life of the future
This rich tapestry is grazed upon and glitters with undiscovered possibilities
Life lingers her still now but then was so much more
What created this and when was it?
Men and Gods gifted soil with regiment and chance for everything
In a time of perfection these little hamlets and farmsteads worked and lived
A time of wild herds and shepherds crooks, wandering wolves and birds long flown away
Wilderness on every fringe, in every darkened copse and forest, over every hill and dale
Hunted beasts of fantasy roam lands before they retreated into minds
What world is this and why is it gone?
Uncharted wastes had sprung with wealthy arenas of natural sustenance
Providers walked the wild places and helped them to become habitable with homes and honour
Brown, wooden walls and sacred tools give order and standards
Communities and care erupt and spread like viruses across once barren worlds
These towns would never die, but rebirth themselves and go through metamorphoses
What happened in this time and how?
Great History was forged upon these fields with sod and soil
Laden, high, grey waters unload and drown nothingness in fertility and prospects
Blooming blossoms break in hedgerows which still divide mans wealth
Jealous Angels haunt the skies and green nymphs abound the rocky babblers and silent streams
An age of innocence where life's circumference gleams intact and strong like Heracles laid out
What work is done and with what aid?
Nietzsche's tombs brim forth with echoed life and holy rhythms
Halberds fall and split more dead life in two and more in vast cluttered greenery
Sows and Zeus' disguise play and toil in Ambrosia's pursuit with the buzzing workers of the hazy days
Earth's harder bounty chipped and chiselled smooth and great with single spectrums
And what is seen collects warm thoughts like the rosy spheres whose bursting buds smell so sweet
What else lived here and what roles did they fill?
Swooping hawks emblazon pinched and puckered skies as toil and folly wait sombrely for the morrow
Grey rabbits bounce freely through young gambollers grazing around the brimming warrens
An autumnal twilight orchestra hum and tune away unseen in the brambles pit
Muddy coloured felines roam creeks and burrows hunting for some fun
All these and more disturbed by nothing but moon and sun
What lives were lived and what else became?
The hammers fall and scream at burning metal manipulated and steamed in smithies far and wide
Great rounds of thirteen unburned but warm feed and fill all folk
Long strings of folded pork and cattle's sides abound marble blocks before the blazing fire
But in these valleys verte and wide abound more with furrowers and fowl sustainers
And drovers moving herds and flocks about these verdant hills
What stopped all this and how?
Dripping sands despoiled this forlorn maiden and raped her innocence away
Minds and machines began to ravage the glimmering gold and gushing green
Old habits died hard and tumbled just like the Vulcan that destroyed them
As the old father stalked these woods and plains traditions disappeared and paradise lost it all
The fig leaves grew all around and the apples from every tree devoured in rapturous, industrial orgies
What has become and how do we know?
Glimpses of Elysium remain in distance from our concrete veins and hearts
But this dream of struggle and beauty has laid itself to rest after our maltreatment
We have now just our forefathers guilt and a seldom lust for simpler times
So gaze upon those untroubled, distant hills and remember what you cannot and wish away the days
Eve's folly began this collapse so long ago but will it ever end it’s thieving and destructive ways
What awaits tomorrow's past and will this theft ever end?
Regrets...