Shopping In A Climate Crisis by Margaret Simpson

I went to the market and I bought,

apples, tart and juicy, locally sourced to avoid food miles,

bees, a hive full, buff tailed and bumbled, pollen makers to the Queen,

compost, worm ridden and crumbly, guaranteed home made,

dandelions, dutiful sunbursts, requiring nothing but to be left alone,

empathy by the armful,

forests of forgiveness,

the gene of giving (without keeping a tally),

hedgerows of happiness,

ice caps for polar bears,

just enough for my needs (not my wants),

a kite, to fly with my feet on the ground,

love enough to spread on the stale bread of hatred,

mycelium, the world wide web that I would rather place my trust in,

night sky, uninterrupted,

peat, undisrupted,

oceans, sculpted by life not plastic,

questions that must be heard (and answered),

rainforests that must be cherished,

seeds that must be sown not edited,

trees that must be grown not debited

an umbrella to shelter and sing under, still feeling the rain

a valley of vision, wide as a glacier,

a walnut of wisdom, cracked open and whole,

experience, to know life is a journey, not a goal,

yeast of knowing, to be handed on.