By Lily
Looking up, to a fine spring day
The subtle winds caress
The Buttercups of May.
Had we lived in a home like this
Where winds cradle the songbird’s note,
Where the gentle sun-rays give growing buds a kiss.
Where the birds in the lake
Watch boldly and carelessly
As what darts by reveals itself as a snake
Where the shyest stag will wander,
Happy; unafraid.
Without even which way to ponder.
Why can’t we live in a habitat this way?
The world–so beautiful
Both under night and day.
Why can’t we help; we make our change?
We have much we can do
In even a limited range.
If we walk in the dark,
But see the like ahead.
If we can see the spark
Our guide and our light.
Don’t be afraid,
We’ll emerge from the night.
We can make this different,
But we’ll need open minds.
Those that are not ignorant,
To how we’re trapped in this dome.
The ones that care; the ones that know
There’s still no place like home.