Passionless, devoid of thought,
the great green world lacks any sense
of what’s enough or what’s proportionate.
It lives by sun and soil and chance.
Unchecked, it spreads till aquifers run dry,
grows tall till gravity declines
to lend a further hand; drives all the way
down to impenetrable stone.
It takes excess of sun and absent rain
to place it in parenthesis.
Heat cancels, drought disowns,
ice brings paralysis.
It has to make the best of what it gets
under the edict of climatic law.
No mangos dangle in Tibet.
No giant sitkas rise in Arkansas.
– David Morphet 2007