THE ROCKS CRIED

THE ROCKS CRIED

Ricardo Antonio Garcia

In the fossil print

of early man I fit my shoe.

He could have worn

the same shoe size as mine.

A distant man in time

feeding his tribe

under the wilderness or prairie sky.

I trace

the steps back to a Cave

and there his family bones all did lay

close together

for they

must have perished at the same time.

Cosmic dust covered the bones

before acid rain

or nuclear radiation took future lives.

Acts of God

are so different from acts of Man.

How they so collide

when we

are fighting to save our spiritual lives.

If ancient

ancestors had machines to oil

the earth

would of have all been gone by now.

So

how much time does that give us

racing with

the plans of sucking up the veins

and depleting

the World of its strength?

Digging up

the ground for risen diamonds

brings

cash signs in our eyes

and the

possessions all this money will buy.

Has anyone

ever heard the earth weep?

Put your ear

to the earth and you will hear me.

The fossil print

of your ear will remain for all time

and one day someone will see

themselves

in the voice that you once did hear.

Stewards of the earth weep.

Weeping

for the sanctity to be heard.

Indians new the rocks cried.