And We Fall

. . . over and over, until
the trees no longer shake
their leaves in prayer, and the earth
can no longer bear
to receive us -- until the wind
no longer sobs, and the iron sky has
no more tears --
until the sea and the land forget
that they are rivals -- until the stones
refuse to mark
our passage anymore, and we are
forced to admit, we have no-one to
blame for this --
that the smoke blinding us, the ash
clinging to our teeth, and the steel tears
searing flesh -- all
are ours, ours, and ours alone, our making
because we refuse to make stars
out of the coals
that burn in our hearts -- because, instead,
we choose to make wars  . . . 

W. Luther Jett