The Poet Speaks with Earth2

Returning late one night from roaming amongst the stars I came on Mother Earth sitting all dark in Space, murmuring tales of her children.

“Dreams and battles,” she said. “Dreams and battles.” I heard her say nothing more.

I said to her: “O Mother, your sons have done marvellous things.” I told her of all our machinery, politics, science; the famous inventions of Man.

Of all these things she had remembered nothing.

“But Steam!” I said. “And Electricity.”

No, she remembered nothing, but muttered of poets and heroes. Not even mention of our Parliament moved her.

“Dreams and battles,” she said. “Dreams and battles,” and fell to muttering poems and crooning of ancient wars.

Mother, Mother, you shall remember us.