Southern Utah Sunrise

Treesit
Wrapped in my sleeping bag
I watched the sunrise over the valley
Curious if any scorpions might lay by my feet
Unseen
 
The redrock walls cast an angelic glow
The silence of the desert surrounding me
The sand between my toes
It is easy to find religion in moments like this
 
In the growth of the morning and the reality of heaven
Would ????? itself
First in the songs of birds
Then the scent of bacon frying over an open fire
The taste of cold Mexican beer
The laughter of friends
And the coolness of the Colorado waters
Enveloping my sand stained body on the way to the sea
 
Or so I like now to believe
 
This is the wilderness
Things are as they should be
Open, free
And full of joy
 
Why should the rest of the world be any different?
 
In the isolation of the sandstone it is easy to hold
On to such ideas
 
Bart Semcer
Earth First Journal  February- March 2002
Swaying in the breeze
Your boat, your child’s rocket ship
Made from climbing rope and tarps
Woven from one ancient conifer to
The  other
With banner hanging in between 
Every light breeze
Every sprinkling of needles
Moves you sensitively
On pine scented air
 
You said you can see beauty from up there
In between the checkerboard pattern
They’ve made of earth
In the morning the sound of chainsaws
Will waken you
From star studded sleep
The trees you wove onto
Marked for cutting 
With broad blue paint
 
Our support holds you up 
In the thin webbing of climbing ropes
Delicate and strong
That ragged steel could cut in seconds
 
At dawn you see a bear cub
Hunting for her breakfast
What will be her home when all
Trees have been felled
And earth is only a mess of dry
Brush and dirt
Soon to be sprayed with toxic chemicals
 
“Isn’t $80 billion enough?” you ask,
“NO,” say the broad metallic jaws of greed
that gobble the last strands of wilderness
NO, says consumerism
NO, says this way of life that ends life
As your boat of peace
Hangs patiently on the trees
 
Jean Varda
Earth First Journal May-June 2002