A cosmic reporter assigned to Earth

Spirit, at times, seems to pretend to be an alien reporter, who is

Curious to learn more about the strange ways we humans

Relate to each other.


We are, He tells me, or seem to be, otherwise intelligent beings,

So, why, He asks, are we, or some of us, so interested in

Establishing new schools of thought?


What seems to be needed, considering such widespread

Environmental destruction, is a new way of being, a new way

Of living with each other, in a more mutually supportive

Manner, and in harmony with nature.


To exploit natural resources is to abuse your future, our future,,

And the future of tomorrow’s people.


I want very much to defend myself and everyone else, but

I don’t know how.


There is no defence. He reads my thoughts. But, we will

Learn from experience, the cost of our neglect.


A Cosmic Joke?

Perhaps in some future lifetime

I will become an artist, a pianist,

and a master gardener.

But, for now,

My easel is covered, as if to

Conceal my work in progress

From critical eyes, except

My own. My neighbours

Claim to admire the sounds of

My daily music practice.

They must have no ear for music.


I fill stacks of notebooks with

Ideas, but, none seem

To connect. Only my garden

Seems satisfied, more or less, and

Blesses my effort.


Spirit asks me to trust that

We (He and I) are doing it

Together. A cosmic joke?