I took a deep breath
and walked down the street,
snowy and icy, having been for weeks,
and not near any warmer « relief ».
If only others could hear what I did,
feel exactly what I did,
they would know what the mantle is,
this responsibility for more than human need.
I felt the wintery breeze as the night was nigh,
sensing the rush of snow run by,
the crush of snow on my boots’ heels,
inanimate moments enough to keep me company.
It’s no secret that I have no kindred,
feeling like a hermit at heart,
never felt the need for others’ earthly desires,
no, I alone have seen something far higher.
The mantle shelters all, but few can claim
the responsibilities as well as the blame
for the state of the world we should be caring for
yet turn over at every opportunity.
This is a mantle of nature, in all forms,
green or white, whether cold or warm.
We should care for the seeds that spring life,
not wreck the soil and fuel fury in strife.
The mantle is a calling, a greater sense of purpose,
but are we it’s masters, or only the mere mastered?
Are we truly prepared for this burden of command,
or will we crumble under the pressure of demands?