We call this blue jewel
astronauts kiss on returning
home, which means many things
and is where death happens.
Her tectonic rage resonates through space
as she becomes bell, ringing and indifferent;
tsunamis and fallen cities simply notes
in her sounding,
but us, we remember.
We light candles. We pray
and imagine leaving the hard love
of our stone mother
for the clean blues of a heaven
only pure because we are far from it.
Susan Daniels Poetry 
The grass is always greener in the other cosmos. This was a big poem Susan, I respect and like that. I think we are destined to leave this world behind, and that’s okay, cause who said we came from here anyway? That’s just a rumour forwarded via books written by aliens.
Hah! Love it, T. Would like to get my hands on that book.
s’called the bible, sld. written by an intergalactic interloper who settled here for a few weeks to write a screenplay for a galactic television broadcast. little did he/she/it know…
Hahaha–love it!
I like this poem especially as we’re just out of climate change week in the UK and will celebrate Earth Hour later in March … I love the rhythm / way you’ve used these words ‘…bell, ringing and indifferent; / tsunamis and fallen cities …’
… and j’adore ‘blue jewel’ 🙂
Thank you, Polly!
just gorgeous. reading it is like floating away.
Oh, thank you. That is what we want to do, float away, isn’t it?
yes…all a matter of perspective…but us, we remember.
We light candles. We pray….love this
Claudia, thank you!
This is a good poem.
Thank you, Richard.
Ah, yes it would definitely be hard to leave our ‘blue jewel’ here; but someday it will happen to us all….not as it did to the astronauts, but perhaps to a better place than anything discovered yet! (Hoping)
Hoping right along with you!
Perspective and scale are always lost in the distance, whether it be planets or people. Well done, Susan!
Joseph, thank you!
only pure because we are far from it…aint that the truth…give us reliable space travel and we will surely find a way to turn the rest of the universe into our waste land….
That’s true, Brian.
Thanks for the reminder of our true mother. we’ve got to take better care of her.
I am fairly certain our true mom is heartily sick of us, and wants to send us to time out…
I would hate to find what this means.
Oh, me too!
A good write, Susan.
Thanks, Ayala.
Only pure because we are far from it So true. Very nice piece
Bjorn, thanks so much. Glad it said something to you.
A lovely poem, Susan, even though I don’t agree with all the details 😉 What if the program is to renew the planet, and us right along with it? Just asking….
That is a lovely interpretation, and if I were referring to pollution here (which I am not doing directly, but every take is valid), I would agree a renewal is in order. And it most certainly is! What I mean here, is, tired of our harsh parent, we dream of something softer, and far away, instead of this wild, unpredictable planet beneath our feet 😉
It is actually more spiritual than physical.
I know you were making a spiritual point, Susan; so was I 😉
Cool–gotcha now 😉
“Only pure because we are far from it”, excellently worded Susan!
Thank you so much!
Susan, profound take on how we have abused our mother earth. Well said.
Pamela
Thank you, Pamela.
Ir reminds me of my puzzlement when people speak of “saving the world” – the world will continue on in one form or another (unless a huge asteroid crashed into it and shattered the whole thing), it’s really just us we’re trying to save!
Exactly, Rowan! It is us we are interested in saving.
love the last stanza, Susan
Stacy, thank you.
Gorgeous.
Thank you, K, so much
Yes yes yes… and in reality it and us there and here, all the same, just in different shapes and aggregations.
Oh, you so got this!
“We pray
and imagine leaving the hard love
of our stone mother
for the clean blues of a heaven
only pure because we are far from it.”
So amazing.
I may need to keep this poem on my bedside table.
Matthew, wow, thank you! I am honored!
Fascinating ! Like grass that is greener — our imaginations want to always imagine there is somewhere better than our hard shifting merciless rock upon which, on a thin layer of soil, we play.
Love the space view.
Sabio–I have to say this is one of the most beautiful comments I have ever read.
Heaven & perception– they are the same…
Yes, I agree.