Fire on the Mountain


(Smoke fills the skies in the Provence, France from forest fires.)

There’s a fire on the mountain,
  Les Pompiers are at its side.
There’s a briar in their keeping,
  A hero’s safety on the line.

There’s a question that is burning,
  As to the cause of all this fright.
There’s a tension that’s been building,
  It turns the day’s light into night.

How many creatures have to die,
  ‘Fore the final bell is to strike?
How many features must we mar,
  ‘Fore the rise of another reich?

It is nature that’s our Mother,
  Our keeping is sole in her care.
There’s a wager that she’s making,
  A plea for all to do their share.

The engines of the Canadair,
  Rages deep in the smoke filled sky.
Like din from the mount of angels,
   Blares a trumpet for those who cry.

It’s not too late, it’s not too late,
  But first know what is at the core.
It’s all so great, it’s all so great,
  For it is thee the fight is for.

© Gregory Masiello, 2017

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