N  a  p  a  l  m      H  e  a  l  t  h      S  p  a         R  e  p  o  r  t     2  0  0  2





Exotic songbirds who once sang gloriously


for all the world to hear


have vanished entirely.




We find their remains


only in a collection of thousands of bones.


Today there is nary a squeak out of the empty nest.




Once upon a time they staked it all so rapturously.


Once upon a time upside-down trees were the talk


of the breakfast shift.


Topsy-turvy trees. Trees to defy gravity.




Once they rose above Denaliís shadow, Sleepy Hollow,


sky-splitting peaksrushing riversfifty-mile views flew


over the rainbow.






               The sun dimmed its lights for one minute in their honor.



Out Of Synch


Imbalance is mans work.


We shift the scenery to suit


times momentary need.


We manipulate, enforce, disseminate,


alter and mutate.


The Atmas message of Truth


increasingly goes unheard.




Dichotomy: Our sun,


source of light, of life,


is the very pollen of the power plant.


A raw revelation




when all else in the Universe


seems to understand its place.




Cant we feel the molecular structures,


the yin-yang, the Tao,


the rapturous sound of Om,


the dragonflyís messageso simple?




That we ever doubt this


                               is wonder enough.