Daily Mail


- Tricia Stur­geon, Mun­des­ley, Nor­folk.


Here we are now, spin­ning round in space, This planet with its blessed hu­man race. A dot within the uni­verse . . . so small It’s mar­vel­lous that we are here at all. In times gone by, when things were not so clear There was a dark­ness, ig­no­rance and fear. And this in turn brought con­flict to the scene In coun­try, con­ti­nent and vil­lage green. Thus, ev­ery­one must take up arms and fight To prove that they were pow­er­ful and right. Rul­ing with a rusty iron rod. Wor­ship­ping a mir­ror im­age God. But now, in th­ese en­light­ened times, we know That we are merely part of Na­ture’s flow And liv­ing, it would seem, on bor­rowed time, Por­tended by the changes in our clime. Could we but see how for­tu­nate we are To dwell awhile on this amaz­ing star, Then might we re­di­rect our war-like zeal To plant and grow and nur­ture, soothe and heal? And learn to gift and give in­stead of take, Al­low­ing in­ner wis­dom to awake, Lest records kept since Time it­self be­gan Show charred re­mains to mark the Age of Man.

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