Our Wounded Earth

A passage I quoted in my journal months ago. From "The Warrior Song of King Gezar," as quoted by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin in Three Cups of Tea (amazing book, in case you wondered!). With photos from the last few months.
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Our earth is wounded.
Her oceans and lakes are sick;
her rivers are like running sores;
The air is filled with subtle poisons.
And the oily smoke of countless hellish fires blackens the sun.


Men and women, scattered from homeland, family, friends,
wander desolate and uncertain,
scorched by a toxic sun...
In this desert of frightened, blind uncertainty,
some take refuge in the pursuit of power.
Some become manipulators of illusion and deceit.
If wisdom and harmony still dwell in this world,
as other than a dream lost
in an unopened book,
they are hidden in our heartbeat.


And it is from our hearts that we cry out.
We cry out and our voices
are the single voice of this wounded earth.


Our cries are a great wind across the earth.