The Myth of Earth

The Myth of Earth
By dark green bough and shrouded glen,
By lives of trees beyond our ken;
Within that vast botanic history,
There lies a dim forgotten story —

Of once-existing fields of green,
With dark-brown soil and water seen
And touched by man, yet not defiled.
And clean fresh air with fragrance mild —

Of pines and flowers all around,
And sunlight streaming to the ground.
Where joy and laughter, glee and mirth,
Were universal laws on Earth.

But times like these are myths to men,
And peace and love beyond their ken.
Look out your window — if you can,
At Earth, defiled and scathed by man.

Mick McKellar
1968 or 1969

I found a copy of a poem I wrote longhand, and remembered sharing it with Cathy Cole, Publications Editor at Michigan Tech in 1968 or 1969 while I was a student assistant. It was buried in an old book.

Mick