Tipping Point

She was our jewel,
floating in space.
In perfect balance,
4 billion years of grace.

With all of her seasons,
firmly in place.
She changed with perfection,
she changed with pace.

Her primordial seas,
gave new life,
to microbes and bacteria,
took edge off strife.

Of all the inhabitants,
that lived on her skin.
Insects reigned foremost,
on the plant life within.

Next came the fishes,
and animals of the sea.
The source of all life,
later to be.

Of all the animals,
gracing the land.
Only we were rational,
in command.

All these kingdoms,
were ours for taking.
And take we did.
We took without thinking.

We squandered what was given,
called it progress, called it living.
Our numbers grew without check.
Our needs grew without giving.

A parasite on our planet,
we took and took and took.
Until our Earth could take no more,
and left us on the hook.

Like a fish on a line,
abruptly pulled to air,
food and water no longer safe,
we cannot breathe the air.

First, the food ran out,
and the water became foul,
diseases ran through us,
anarchy raised its howl.

Holed up in our tunnels,
without a drop to drink.
Our hopes of staying alive
slowly begun to sink.

But the tipping point fury,
outran our failure to act.
Until the last one standing,
still thought by react.

1911 Indy 500

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Copyright 2010 © Ronald W. Hull