Our Mother Earth, with flaming fever
Our Father Sky, with floods of tears
Our Brother Sun, in smoke enshrouded
Our Sister Moon, toils with the tides
The fiery dawn sees its reflection
The searing noontime is ablaze
The bleeding dusk is cut with torrents
The midnight feels the waters rise
Men and women dress for battle
Armed with bucket, barrow, hose
Young and aged grasp at safety
Cling to photos, memories, toys
War cries echo 'cross the besieged land
Amidst the roar and smoke and grime
Some are taken hostage, prisoner
On island rooftops, in fiery cells
The choked skies, the drenched horizon
Pulse and throb with rotor-winged birds
Who quench the flames and throw a lifeline
Like glistening angels of mercy hovering
At last, the firestorm exhausts its fury
The smoky veil in the heavens is rent
At last, the tempest lashes its last blow
The dark cloud cloak is cast aside
From the scattered ashes, so bleak, so desolate
Bright green buds, like a Phoenix, burst forth
From the silted plains, so washed out and forlorn
Brave new buildings, like flowers will rise
From glories of summer, to tragedies of autumn
Many leaves fallen, many lives lost
With winter, lamenting and struggles for survival
With spring, healing and a new lease of life
As with the rainbow, an ancient covenant divine
This time of renewal and rebirth will come
The promise radiates from the ashes and mud
This sacred moment, when the lilies bloom
— Wayne Visser