Water On The Moon Poem by Linda Hepner

Pools of water glinting on the moon
Have been reported, lying in the shade,
Discovered yesterday but none too soon
Because the ghastly mess that we have made

Down here on earth (without a thought for those
Whose lives we birthed, our dear tomorrow breed,
Who never, unlike us or grandpa, chose
To burn our fossil fuels, a deadly deed

Which makes a mockery of life or laws
Of nature, Science, Genesis or Pan) ,
No none too soon to look for open doors
Or gates or rockets to the Higher Plan;

Perhaps no better, but another chance
To close Pandora’s box and start again,
To give the serpent’s tree a shrugging glance
And let old Adam One win over men

Whose voice of violence, power, satisfied
By nothing, no one, God’s gifts plundered, killed,
Have led us to depletion, desert, tide
Not green but red, or gas, none of it willed

By the Creator, hoping we’d be wise
And not expecting we’d soon burst our bounds.
But Foolish One, He let us feast our eyes
Upon the lonely moon, whose rocky mounds

Sat smiling on us since Creation Week -
That virgin huntress, goddess, mother,
Whose measured light might teach us a technique
To stop, conserve, work with, respect each other.

But here we go again, we plunder space,
So proud, the Snake applauding, atta man!
When all else dies, he’ll judge the human race
Upon his belly, with a weeping Pan.

LRH
9.24.09