Listen long and deep under the snow
Regardless of its own coldsparkling depth-
Just listen well enough, and you will know
Those cities living where Fall winds last swept.
Though lately masked by Death to our poor eyes,
The worlds below continue with their work
As Life and its sweet cycling synthesize
Fresh life from what to us looks like dull murk.
Their vision finer than our own by far,
Can they survive the poisons we rain down?
Do they still see nightshining snow as stars?
Will they forgive us for what we have sown?
The choice is clear: we poison them or feed them
As they feed us, but never doubt we need them.