We will hear noise, but we must listen to truth
I listen to the wind,
That rustles the leaves, and swings the trees
The voice of nature, that presides powerfully in Edinburgh.
I hear the cars,
That haunt the cyclists, trying to pass
Through life, without further deepening nature’s scars.
I listen to the laughter,
Revelling in that joy, that everyone is after
I hear the strain in her voice,
the pain that pillages her spirit and poisons her soul, with noise
Unnatural sounds, that seek to exploit and destroy
I listen to the beats,
that move my feet, to the rhythm of the streets
I hear her gulp and shudder
as he tells her he’ll give her a massage to recover
There is Nowhere to Runfrom the one who you believe has given you your liberation
I listen to the long unheard.
The marginalised, those erased from history and discarded in society to the outskirts.
For it is they who are embraced by nature
And when they embrace it in turn,
the oppression inflicted upon them can only harm the oppressors
For to be one with nature,
is to be one with the truth of who you are.
For you are nature,
And such truth will heal your scars.
Rowena Nankivell