By Zoe
A two part poem.
Anemoia (n.) nostalgia for a time you have never known.
The first mountain to grow
The first river to flow
Carving the first pathway
When the sky blue not gray
Exploring the first valley
So rich and wealthy
I dream it, I yearn
For a time I’ve never known
When the earth formed
Raging weather stormed
I’m sure that was a sight to see
Back when the world was free
The rise of forests
Before the existence of tourists
I wish I saw the Great Fire
And I’m not saying it to be satire
Or the Great Flood gate open
When glaciers used to be frozen
I am nostalgic
For a time when this place was magic
I bet the wind whistled
So loud the land trembled
But I missed the aria
So I have Anemoia.
Ellipsism (n.) a sadness that you will never know how history will turn out.
But I will never know
When will be the last rainbow
The last mountain will be gone
The last river will run
I will never see if humanity
Fixes what they have done tragically
Will there be a burning sun
That shines as brightly as when it begun
I hope there are oceans
That continue on without exceptions
The sky painted with clouds
Their shade welcoming crowds
The Future is unattainable
It remains invisible, unpredictable
But it sure was an adventure
The time here it did render
It brings me great sadness
I will fade to blackness
History will go on being made
My presence unswayed
I want to see it turn out
The world thriving, no doubt
Cursed by my own narcissism
I am left with Ellipsism.