Antarctica: Back to the Garden

We are stardust
We are golden
We are billion year old carbon
And we got to get ourselves back to the garden”

© Joni Mitchell

I step off the plane
Welcome home

My key opens the front door
And I set my luggage down

But I am still in Antarctica

The car horns are impatiently blaring
I hear the sound of penguins calling

The streets are strewn with litter
I see icebergs scattered in the sea

The newscasts show the ravages of war and terror
I feel the tranquility of a place where only peace exists

The headlines warn of our impact on this planet
And it is clear to me…

We all have to go back to Antarctica

As for me, I haven’t left
And never will.

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