A bear approaches, furred from nose to tail
climbing a high-hollow for a honey-sweet song
color embellished by feathered chorus
singing tomorrow will be new, maybe
but today's feast is elk and bison carcass.
The sun is collimated into a narrow ring,
Gaia aroused, expands on her couch
peaches in hand, she eats deliberately.
Humans banished, the Tree of Life restored,
what better good than burying the pits in the dirt?
Earth now demands an oath of viriditas
or new pastures, whichever is better for the kids.
Fields await for our descendants to play
in flowers blue as our cropped fingernails.