‘I am your mother.
You are all my children.
I will live for you,
And I will die for you.
Our time here is short,
But our legacy must be upheld.
Today, we face crisis.
Our cells are warming beneath our feet.
We may boil in our own juices.
The walls around us
May warp and melt,
But we will stand together
As we always have
As we always will.
We will face this together.
We will protect our young,
Our future workers,
Our nurses, our undertakers,
Our seed givers, our cleaners,
The heir to my crown,
Our brothers and sisters
Through blood and solidarity.
None is greater than the other.
We work well because we work together.
We respect one another.
And I, your queen, your mother,
Will protect you all.
So as our home fills with smoke,
As often it does,
Breathe it in
And sleep, my little ones,
For tomorrow, we have work to do.
Every living thing depends upon our work.
In the face of adversity,
We will carry on and do what must be done.’
,,
,,
And so, they slept,
As beneath them,
The workers worked
To douse the flames
To save our heritage
And protect the purse,
Whilst the man
Named after the great cathedral,
Smiled in his grave
For he predicted this, in cryptic verse
Centuries ago.
But did anybody take his heed?
..
..
And the rich scurried to write their cheques
And tell the world just what they’d done,
As the poor gazed in horror
At what was being done,
And the homeless warmed themselves
At the early Beltane feast,
Whilst the comfortable folk
Wrestled with their consciences
As their televisions poured out the news.
..
..
The next morning,
As the world wept,
The bees rose slowly from their drowsy sleep,
Flew from their hive
And got on with their work
As though nothing had happened.
I am not a silent poet 