On The Precipice (Poem)

Standing on the crumbling precipice
Of an existential catastrophe,
Trying not to feel like an accomplice,
But my carbon footprint implicates me.

Will this be the tipping point where we failed?
Where we triggered an avalanche of doom?
With no way back, our potential curtailed,
Either we rise now or dig our own tomb.

But a shocking gap must swiftly be crossed,
Where conservation and true equity,
Face an implausible discounting cost:
Can next year be worth an eternity?

We are but a page in the Book Of Life,
Our family tree merely a sapling,
If we wait, it will be the Reaper’s knife,
With which our descendants will be grappling.

We cannot waste a moment. We must rise,
Charting a safe path to the other side,
To a future with unpolluted skies,
Where mighty eagles soar and falcons glide.

Where whale-song echoes through quiet, clean seas,
And fossil fuels stay buried in the past,
Where we protect forests of ancient trees,
And find a natural balance at last.

Where all lives are treated equitably,
And justice is more than a distant goal,
Where it lives and breathes indomitably,
Within Humanity’s awakened soul.

By Ciara Muldoon
Co-founder of SearchScene.com, the charitable search engine that protects the planet and your privacy while you search the web.

Written 28 April 2021

This poem was inspired by Toby Ord’s book, “The Precipice: Existential Risk And The Future of Humanity.” (2020)