By Junelie Anthony Velonta | The Sillimanian Magazine
Ancient roots exhumed from excavated earth
and soil bacteria from a long-forgotten past,
breathe the air of the Anthropocene
and give me the judgment that you will pass
unto this new world: where the asphalt roads
and concrete floors entomb the dead seeds
of the mangrove trees and nipa palms
in a mausoleum ten-stories tall.
Will you show us mercy and salvation?
Or are the cloven hills and mountainsides
whose sandstone soul have been laid bare
be our last and lasting legacy on this world?
Whisper to me, or am I still too human—
too singular—to understand
the thoughts of many becoming one:
the organism as part of one ecosystem.
For what is the hardwood to the shrub?
The weevil to the seed corn?
The feed to the livestock?
The islands and oceans to the human?
Still, the mountains remain on the horizon,
and flowers bloom into rainbows after the rain,
and children witness the golden fields of rice.
The sentence and duties have been passed.
