When the last tree falls,
the only rain will be
in the eyes of suicidal farmers.
Their salty irrigation will make the crops cringe,
wither and die, and leave the earth barren.
But these empty fields will not be wasted.
They can be our graveyards,
and the tree stumps our tombstones.
Then one day when we finally connect,
when we ARE the earth,
perhaps something will grow again.
But none of us will be there
to witness that birth.
(edited and re-posted from 2010)