This poem was written a few hours after I had left the rainforest. I did not know at the time but it would be the last time I saw my forest for years maybe forever.
Just reading it again brings tears to my eyes.
The ‘one percent’ is a term used in the West for the tiny group of people living in most countries of the world who own half the wealth of that country. It was highlighted in a book written on the American economy.
This is my small protest and reminder of what the one-percent are doing to the environment to build up their bank accounts and I ask them,’Is it really worth it?’…
The prophesy was written by a native North American Indian…a Cree Indian.
I spent many a night in the Amazon Rainforest alone. The mind can play tricks in the dark, particularly when you are alone, and the forest sounds only add to the sense of foreboding as well as curiosity.
My beloved rainforest in a storm is a force to behold. Lightening and thunder booms, crashes and shakes the earth. Trees sway and are denuded in the violent winds and torrential downpours.
The storm makes you feel small and powerless. It’s amazing, frightening and exhilarating.
Every day I would sit on my little harbour deck and watch the birds. To my right, a Little Grey Heron fished, unconcerned by my presence. We grew accustomed to each other.
One morning Monduco, my oft companion in the forest brought me a skull. It belonged to the heron. I felt very sad to have lost my river companion and wrote a poem in his honour.
On returning to the UK from my home in the Brazilian Amazon Rainforest, there was not a day, a night, a moment when the forest was not uppermost in my thoughts. This poem was written during a moment of nostalgia and longing.