Tim Miner's Musings

Krik! Krik! Krik! Avem and a dozen other mothers called out to their chicks. Her two chicks have been missing for four nights now. Their chicks have not been found just yet. By maternal guild, they hovered in the air; with nowhere to perch, occasionally looking down for that familiar plume and life. Only a gang of scavenging Sciurus lumbered around on the ground, mocking their call-outs with squeaks so horrible they hurt their ears. This called for punishment. KRIK! No answer. KRIK! Nothing was said. It was one of the saddest days of their lives. Trees get cut down in Mearowi daily, making food scarce for all. Trees have been disappearing for a longtime now, turning the land bare but not their brood. KRIK! Vir has been setting forests and grasslands on fire, pushing away other realities and life forms. But who cuts down the sacred Baobab that houses Avem’s clan? KRIK! The last of its kind on Mearowi. Who is this prick? KRIK! They cried out to Mearowi gods...

Credit: Pixabay Screeches, blaring horns, rambling vehicular traffic Frightens, I have seen many a crushes, careless; Car and body mangled. Flesh minced, all and gory. Senseless. Seen homes, shops razed; reduced to ashes and cinder. A people weeded out, dispossessed of their lands by cabal developers; Faceless privates they are called, Shameless. Great churches with graying walls of truth Thick, round masonry and domed Reverberating with choirs of politicians Gyrating around altars and tithe barns, maleficent. And in public squares singing deceitful refrains and party lies, How low can we sink, fealty? Lo and behold, brother, The reprehensible Fire of greed that burns tons of smokeless anthracite coals; Pillages public coffers, bleeding our small economic strength away. Betrayal! The streets we walk, the grounds we till are Imbrued in blood. Bloodbaths of people thine hands slit Their throats. Innocents whose Massacres are sc...