by Justine Camacho-Tajonera
- The Georgia Guidestones, Elbert County, Georgia, U.S.A.
The stones say that five hundred million can maintain balance
with nature, only five hundred million, no more and no less.
I watch my children sleeping, one is five and one is nearly two.
Are they one of the five hundred million? Are they the
seven out of the ten in the whole world?
When floods come and go and take our children with them
who can say why? Who can say that there was a reason?
Who answers for them? Who decides why it cannot be me
instead of them? Who will trade with me? Who will pack up
their dinosaurs and biscuits in their bags and wipe their tears?
The world turns, the stones creak, the core of the earth
burns hot (or cold, who is to say?), we orbit the sun,
we are pressed to the earth by laws of physics
whether our hearts are breaking or not.
Balance is not something to be persuaded.
It is a world of miracles and small wonders that I live in,
a bewildering mix of forces, of consequences, like our rooms
that flooded when we left our windows open yesterday.
I gather these two in my arms, I gather them as summer, as a
May Day in other parts of the world, imperishable in the heart.
Picture By AmpCoder (Own work) [CC-BY-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons