Blackbird

The incessant chatter
of those who think their glance is
farsighted and crystalline
about the future of nations in conflict,
causes the greenest of the leaves
to wither on the branch
while people are dying as if there was
no tomorrow -- if I were a blackbird, I would
swallow the seed of war
and fly away

to a place not yet dug, razed, polluted
and I'd be ready at any time
for that seed to implode within me
and I'd live the happiest of last moments
for having saved the world from itself