By Richard B. Primack with help from Chat AI and Willow E. Primack
[This poem was written largely by Chat AI based on a short essay by Richard and using prompts from Willow. Richard spent some time polishing the poem.]
In the warming world's embrace,
Unfolding petals rush to face
A sun too eager in its climb.
Wildflowers in Concord's heart,
Bloom early—nature's art
Distorted by a clock unseen.
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| Photo 1: Pink lady’s slipper orchid (source - gardenia.net) |
Red maples, white oaks stretch
New leaves to skies, a net to catch
Time lost, fourteen days erased.
The forest floor, once bathed in spring light,
Now shaded, in the relentless night
From canopies formed too soon.
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| Photo 2: Red Maples (source -- ohio.edu). |
The birds, unswayed, keep their course,
Arriving as if by some ancient force,
Unaware of the disrupted tune.
Insects, on the other hand,
Dance to a warmer land's command,
A symphony of disarray.
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| Photo 3: American Redstart (source - © Evan Lipton eBird S29730553). |
Halfway through this tale of change,
I ponder on the range
Of Thoreau’s words, a guide, a boon.
How much of what we see is real?
Is there more we can reveal
In this ceaseless quest, our plight?
To be awake is to be alive,
But in this truth, do we contrive
To see the world in Thoreau's light?
Can we follow his simple lead,
In word, in thought, in deed,
As the planet warms, as species flee?
Live simply, so others simply live,
To nature’s call, attention give,
Reduce, reuse, our creed.
Let's tread softly where we roam,
For this Earth, our only home,
Needs guardians of its fragile dream.
In the echoes of Walden's shore,
We find a task worth fighting for:
To restore the rhythm of the natural theme.
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