We Who Steer the Weather of the World

By Todd Jackson

 

Houston drowns from Greenland's melt up swelled,
Sacrifices gobbled by this proud Anthroposcene.
Nor does heated air relent upon the evergreen.
Coastal wood from wind-blown flame is felled.

 

Orange ash is lifted then dispelled.
Time for plucking carbon atoms from the sky is spent.
Time has come to curb the Sun's impress by two percent.
Interventive action is compelled.

 

Fifty years' irradiance withheld,
Slightly interrupted by an ultra-thin machine.
At an early glance it seems a single screen
Though this angel's wing is multi-celled,

 

Sixteen trillion discs, all pulse-repelled.
Fifty years' protection underneath our shelter tent.
Global warming, shuttered, inside months a non-event,
All the smoking pipes to be expelled.

 

We will steer the weather of the world.
Harnessing this brilliance that had run loose uncontrolled,
Inward selves evolved to match what things the mind can mould
Vast and still as this machine unfurled.

 

We will steer the weather of the world.
Misty for the innocence of wildernesses old
Even though we emanate Versailles ten thousand fold
And the orbit of the Earth impearled

 

Todd Jackson from USA has published in ActiveMuse; in The Road Not Taken: A Journal of Formal Poetry; in Snakeskin Poetry Ezine; in Gods&Radicals Press; in Circe's Cauldron: Pagan Poems and Tales of Magic and Witchcraft; and in The Q Gallery: Art of the Quarantine.