So, This is Progress?

On The Land... A hundred years ago, perhaps less, perhaps more, And music filled the air as ne’er before: Field and forest with wildlife was replete; Birds sang from their hearts in melodies sweet, Badgers and foxes made the land their home And rabbits in the meadows did freely roam. Today, however, those once commonplace scenes Seem like fairy tales or fanciful dreams. The trees once echoed a melodic refrain, But now, alas, they echo rarely again, For, ‘mid those boughs, naked and bare, A strange, eerie silence does dwell there. The chaffinch and robin and little jenny-wren Now populate in numbers no greater than ten; Thus, in a small corner of England’s countryside Not a few of these families have needlessly died. Man, in need of progress, abandoned the plough And made greater use of his technical ‘know how’. With noble intentions he set to his task, But now, in retrospect, what’s seen behind the mask? Expressions of greed written all over his face Where once there was not a single trace. Thus, hungry African’s by the millions die – And all Man can do is breathe a simulated sigh. Yet, at the same time, in the affluent West Food ‘Mountains’ are growing without any rest! All this wanton abuse of Man’s inherent power Move creatures ever closer to their dying hour. Ah yes, it’s true some fields are bursting with corn, But field mice are dying just as soon as they're born. And yes, Man's efforts produce vast fields of gold, But, the hidden toll of destruction is yet to unfold: Some fields are almost as quiet as the grave – Such a sad monument t’wards how Man does behave. Fields can no longer bear their precious fruit, As trees are poisoned right down to the root. Even the cycle of the ecological structure Has gained many a serious rupture Which, like the ripples on the surface of a lake Touches all our lives in the path of its wake. In The Sea… The Sea has suffered too from Man’s many mistakes, Yet, he keeps on gambling and raising the stakes Even though he knows his life is certainly involved, Will he, in time, get these problems solved? The oceans and lakes, mighty rivers as well, Can’t forever be considered a bottomless-well. In time, as always, he’ll have to pay the price As he still trusts foolishly in the roll of the dice. His food stocks in the Sea each day are rapidly depleting, In his own clever schemes is he himself defeating? The precious white fish upon our dinner-plate Now looks a much unhealthier, sickly state. The teeming multitudes that once lived in the sea Have all but died off, for you, and for me. Oil slicks and industrial refuse and radioactive waste Have all made stagnation race on in sheer haste. So, are the open seas destined (like already the land) To feel the deathblow, from Mankind’s heavy hand? In The Air… The atmosphere is congested with a plethora of plumes From fact’ries belching out a cocktail of deadly fumes. Higher, ever higher, these ghoulish ribbons of smoke Coil in curious spirals that make us all choke. A westerly wind carries them to a level, very high, And thus smoke changes to charcoal a once beautiful blue sky! A slow, steady destruction, by means of acid rain Burns and denudes the forests from Scandinavia’s terrain. Each day, large pock-holes puncture the ochre ground And it’s not too long before (bereft of any sound) These once, lively, animated forests resemble a grave Full of trees dead, or dying, which Man neglects to save. High above the highest clouds of the atmosphere Vapour trails of aircraft can be seen so very clear, They criss-cross the sky in every direction and angle, In a network of white lines that twist and entangle. Combined with this, to compound Man’s plight, What does occur almost every other night? Yet another satellite, another unmanned space-probe Pierces the blue bubble of our beauteous globe. Hence, earth’s protective shield gains yet another tear – Will Man be quick enough to make a lasting repair? Conclusion And so, upon the Land, in the Sea, and in the Air, We can see Man’s progress has brought us – where? Yes, Mankind’s greatest strides this century has seen; He’s been to places and areas no man has ever been, Yet, while on the Moon, on Earth he looked down And the Genius, in reality, became a Clown; A billion billion dollars were spent on this mad scheme All just to achieve the glory that comes with a dream; But, as with all dreams, it did quickly fade, And Man came away feeling all the more dismayed. The Astronaut stood upon that barren Sphere, Devoid of creatures that draw breath, or fear, And witnessed the Apocalyptic Book unfurled In the suff’ring and agonies of his dying World. Most things that humans touch end up in ruin, or dust; A sort of reverse Midas touch always turning to rust! And even though some steps are of a Giant’s leap It seems that sometimes we’re walking in our sleep, Or, like an Infant- Child, with all of Life’s Lessons to learn, He unwisely toys with nature, and his fingers, they burn! So, just like a vulnerable Child, Man needs help and direction – A Leader to successfully guide and give welcome protection. But, until Man regains his senses, and takes note of his need, He will continue to fall down daily, in thought, word and deed.