Professed guardians of nature, still I fear

We have no solemn reverence for her grace;

This verdant Eden, once esteemed and dear

Downtrodden now as if mere common space.

Souls should rejoice at skies of azure blue

Or at the ocean’s breadth and mighty roar,

Yet we bequeath but grief and endless rue

That desecrates our haven evermore.

We have evolved as all things born of earth,

By blind caprice or some hand yet unseen;

We wield the power of good, yet foster dearth

And mar our place of birth through acts obscene.

Yet when our Eden’s gone, where shall we go…?

— No world in reach can best the one we know.