Progress by Rhonda Chase
July 1, 2006
Dreams of a golden morning dawn,
of paths that take us far beyond...
Beyond the worry, sorrows and woe,
where sparkling rivers swiftly flow.
Places where the sky is blue,
where everything is clean and new.
Dreams of a place in which to live,
not only taking, but to which we give...
give of ourselves back to the earth..
joy at dying as at birth.
No more sorrow, no more fear...
it's all so very, very clear.
Back to the earth, from which we come,
a cycle that is never done.
Our Lord in heaven, made you and me,
gave us a soul and set us free..
gave us a mind with which to think,
gave us knowledge from which to drink.
The choice is ours, what we do..
a path to walk, straight and true.
But foolish man, he got too smart,
things began to fall apart.
He tore and ripped at all he found,
to nothing, did he feel bound...
he cried "unfair" loud and strong,
quickly learning he was wrong.
now paradise is a wasted land..
which never was the Lord's plan..
Vanishing are the bird and beast..
as from the Earth, man takes his feast.
What was once green and lush...
is now a highway, with traffic's rush..
The birds and beasts are growing few,
Concrete and steel obstruct our view..
The quiet hush has gone away...
no sanctuary in which to stay.
But hell bent, man forces on..
until at last, the beauty's gone.
All that's left is stark and bare,
no going back, should he dare...
Why does man do this? Has he a reason?
As he tries to control each day, each season...
It's crazy to think that he can rule...
man, it seems, is the biggest fool.
He boasts and brags and puffs his chest..
seeking to look bigger then all the rest.
Power is the focus of his desire..
when using it, he doesn't tire.
But I can't let go of the dream,
losing it, I'd have to scream..
There is only one thing to do..
start again and build anew.
Plant the flowers and the trees,
watch the work of honeybees.
Clean up the trash man has made,
not let the beauty of Earth fade.
Repair the damage that we've done,
let's things grow under the sun..
No more concrete and steel...
No more trees for us to kill.
Let the water run fresh and clean,
There's still time to save the dream.
If only man will open his eyes..
see the dark and dirty skies!
The landscapes littered with his toys...
none of which he now enjoys..
But before it gets to late...
man should not hesitate...
to fix the damage he has done,
for there is no place he can run...