In seventy-five, the warning came
A whispered truth, a rising flame
Broecker spoke, the world stood still
But progress marched against his will
Blah, blah, blah—the leaders spoke
While forests fell in clouds of smoke
Valleys drowned in man’s grand schemes
Rivers choked on poisoned dreams
The wheels of wealth must turn, they say
So let the forests fade away
One less tree, one more delight
The world grows dim, but profits bright
Yet in the hush of emerald halls
A silent kingdom softly calls
Leaves that murmur, roots that weave
Breath of life we scarce perceive
Sir Attenborough’s voice resounds,
Through tangled vines and sacred grounds
The Green Planet, lush and vast,
Tells of futures, lost and past.
From Kinabalu’s misty crest
The Rafflesia blooms, a fleeting guest
A corpse flower’s call, both foul and sweet
A bloom of wonder, death, deceit
Robotic eyes, in patient gaze
Capture time’s elusive phase
A petal’s sigh, a creeping vine
A battle waged in roots and time
And yet, we walk with vacant eyes
Beneath the ever-changing skies
We see the green but not its grace
A fleeting blur, a lost embrace
The Earth still breathes though worn and weak
And whispers secrets we must seek.
A truth we’ve known, but failed to heed
To guard the land is life’s own creed
So let us stand, admit our crime
Before we lose this borrowed time
For in the hush of trees and tide
The planet waits, with hope, with pride
Mea culpa – ours to bear
Yet redemption lingers in the air
If hands will plant, if hearts will see
Perhaps there’s hope for you and me
