I dreamt the world is dying,
no cure for what ails us.
Like the honey bees, we are
moving to extinction, fast
tract to obliteration.
Then I woke up and found
it was only a dream,
unless, of course, it was
a vision of that which is to come.
Dream, prophecy, warning,
wake-up, brothers and sisters.
Don’t let this dream come true.
A lovely poem. Timely and thought-provoking!
I agree, Bette – very lovely! I hope all is going well with Pure Trash 🙂