Three
Gorges Dam Memorial Park, China
January 4, 2013
Far
away, well east of Eden
virile
rivers carved a valley
through
the age of long ago.
Now
stretching out in black earth flatness
cotton
patch competes with paddy
tractor
vies with buffalo
below
the rolling orange groves
with
fences lined in climbing jasmine
border
rows of sycamore.
Here
in the highlands of Hubei
I
can hear its song
rising
out of mist and mountain
gray
home of gods now gone
refuge of wayfaring mystic and misfit
place where
the wild torrent
courses
through gorges
once
upon some time ago.
But
now the long river
languishes
flat
and heavy
murky
deepness drowns Three Gorges
sighs
behind a concrete slab
controlled
and still
until
release.
To
wander
ancient
river plains
that
birthed and nurtured
feudal
lords
a
brand new land
of
grit and coal
of
dusky skies
that
smother cities
town
and village
torn
and pillaged
taken
into concrete
borg
till onward
into
paradise
of
tollway road
and
high rise rows
in
cities of ten million
souls,
new centers
that
were meant
to
sparkle, broker
fortunes,
beckon
dreams
and draw
beleaguered
masses
forward,
soar
into
the gray-brown
skyscape,
lined
with
cranes
and
belching stacks
that
stitch the land
and
sky with smog
and
seal the earth
beneath
the load
of
human progress.
East
meets West
and
ups the ante
heeds
the siren
staggers
forward
fading
into midday haze.
And
from the highlands of Hubei
so
very far away from Eden
I
can hear the good earth groaning
crushed
beneath a billion souls
just seeking their century
salvation in wealth.
And
so the modern world goes
as
Gaia sighs and turns to stone
to
wait upon a wiser age
when
sages and keepers
will
come once again.
