Open Space at The Zoo Fence

Back to Open Space

Message To Man
Art Hale

This poem was originally published in 1993 in Connecting Link.

Art Hale is the author of the book Christ Yes, Religion No, and of a short story that appears here on Open Space.

Tonight the sea is still, and Sirius’ light
glows on its silent surface; I am alone
rarely, but this night I am alone
thinking of what has been, and what will be.
So long ago we came to make this planet
home; we chose our forms to represent us,
as fluid as our souls, as fair, as free,
and came rejoicing. Not yet were there men;
the species known as human was to be
only in distant futures.
And so it was;
and so it is no more.

We were the population of the sea;
dolphins we were, and whales, and over ages
we shepherded the burgeoning of life
about us, and we sang creation songs
and spoke of who we are, and whence we came
to one another; and we knew no fear, nor knew
pain, loss, or heartache.
And so it was,
and so it is no more.

In time there came
man, and we welcomed him, a brother soul
from stars as clean as ours, from skies as wide;
willing to share a planet fair enough
for both of us, and for a while it was
indeed a ground for common revelation,
and in those days we honored one another,
sea and land united.
And so it was,
and so it is no more.

Think with me, think of what was lost
when first you chose to break the tie that binds;
when first you chose to see yourself alone,
when first you chose to separate yourself
from us, from Mother Earth, and to imagine
that none but you were wise beneath the sky.
You came with ships, hunted us with harpoons,
killing us all for things you did not need;
where you had come with love, you came with nets.
Where you had shared a common Light, ascended
from All That Is, you made a darkness grow.
We were your friends; you took us from our joy
and made us captive, crimeless prisoners
of human arrogance upon the earth.
Think with me now of what could be again.
Know now that you are never unforgiven.
Even now, we speak to you in ways
you cannot fathom, and to those who listen
still comes the message of a love that was
and now could be again. We will forgive
though you know not you need to be forgiven;
and we will love, though you cannot receive
love even now; for our love will prevail,
restoring to your stricken race the Light
that you have lost, that shows the way to Light.
And so it was,
and once again, will be.

Open Space