THE BLACK MOUNTAINS!

What colour is blood money?

Is it black;

As the slurry that moved,

The mountain that fell?

Who will pay the price?

The choice is death for life!

Anguish and despair, each mirrored

In the absence of youth!

Quiet streets, empty of toys;

Vehicles unimpeded processed;

The winding road adjacent

To the hillside resting place;

Nearby the scar of washed scree,

Carried by torrential rain,

And hidden streams

Of life giving-taking liquid.

Who would choose action,

Tomorrow rather than today?

The eyes reflect deeply,

The sorrow, unspoken;

The void unfilled remains.

People are tested!

For patience, for love, for hope,

Renewal of community!

"Why was our future taken away?"

Children who will not grow old!

Brothers, sisters, who are left alone.

The markers stand apart,

Name names, where only flowers show

Their new coats of crimson or gold;

Dressed as best as time permits.

There are no special days of celebration,

There are only wishes

Of lesser pain!

Can you fill an empty space?

Give value to that which is destroyed?

Mothers who bore their gift,

Watch the mountain change its face,

Now clad in green;

New life of scrub and grass.

The waters pour outward,

Absorbed inward, give renewal.

Other peaks of waste are reduced;

They offer rebirth to valleys,

And the bowels of the Earth.

Torn apart of man's labour, for profit.

Now the effort has been made

To replace the womb,

Once ripped and torn;

To give life,

Where new life can be reborn!

Today's response to yesterday;

The black mountains no longer scorn.

1994 © Will George.