WHAT HOPE?

Look, here we are, a creeping, cancerous glob
Consuming the vast biomass of Earth,
Not stewards but a mad, voracious mob
Converting our world’s plenty into dearth.

What help for this but quickly to evolve
Into the wisdom of our hopeful name,
Since only Homo sapiens can resolve
The problems we have caused and clear our shame.

And yet, what likelihood is there of that,
That in one lifetime someone might grow wise,
Transcend our tendency for falling flat
And from our stubborn stupor then arise?

Our only hope for wakening is fear
And seeing clearly that our end is near.

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