Contributed by Gretchen Volenik
Image Photography by Angela McMullen
We play the victim well, At our peril.
When our house is flooded, Our crops are dying Of drought, Of frost, Of lack of bees,
When each storm is stronger and When we are without power any longer, When islands are sinking and The earth is ripped apart with Tornadoes, Earthquakes, Tsunamis,
We close our eyes and lament, “Woe is me!”
What a funny little game we play:
“How did this happen?” “I didn't think it would affect me.” “I couldn't change it.”
When the tea kettle is boiling And screaming, You know what to do. You take it off the burner. You stop it from explosion.
Is it too late? Are we all Passenger Pigeons?
You have a moment left to change. What will you do with it today?
At least have the courage to not play the victim. At least have the strength to be responsible for what we do.
I live, write and contemplate the universe from my cabin in the woods.
I was born and brought up in nature and so try to live as reverently and gently on the earth as I can.
My writing is given to me by the universal energy that connects us all.