What Is It Too Late for? Poem to Mark the Scientist Rebellion

“Why We Rebel? Scientists have spent decades writing papers, advising government, briefing the press: all have failed. What is the point in documenting in ever greater detail the catastrophe we face, if we are not willing to do anything about it?” Scientist Rebellion, 2021

Some have called it a 4-day climate hunger strike. During my solidarity fast with the Scientist Rebellion, I took time out to reflect on how I am feeling and what I think I know at this time. Not for producing structured arguments, but for welcoming any integrative knowing of self, society and nature. To help, I attended morning sessions with other fasters, hosted by the Reverend Steven Wright of Sacred Space, Cumbria. I felt lucky and grateful to have such a wonderful invitation to presence and purpose, as well as to have the camaraderie of fellow fasters. As a result, I had another go at poetry, on the theme of discovering what is most important when we let go of old stories of self, other, society and nature. An audio recording of the poem is below, on my youtube channel.

Thank God it’s too late

I know it’s too late for reform
and too late for this or that norm
Too late for over consuming
And too late for subsuming
All that we are
for such dead-end roles
that deaden our souls
Oh boy
But it’s not too late to love

I know it’s too late for believing
in fairy tales of salvation
and likely too late for millions
Who will suffer starvation
So no,
It will never be too late to love

I know this day
It’s already too late
for yet another two hundred
Exterminate
Yeah, that’s a word
The reality, far worse
than what could ever be heard

Oh it’s way too late for their fears
to repress the rest of us,
We who know that
It’s too late for avoiding grief
Or fear
Or rage
It’s too late for bottling up
Pop the cork, smash the bottle,
Only then the light gets in

It’s too late for elite panic to wreak havoc on our mutual aid
It’s too late for dream machines and the schemes of technokings
It’s too late to not see sickness coming from our poor stories of life
It’s too late for magic bullets being shot into arms
And it’s too late for Bill Gates buying up all those farms

Yes, I know it’s too late for so so much
Like the grand schemes of secret control
Coming from people’s own hated shadows
It was always too late for anyone to lead
who hadn’t sat in circle
and sobbed deeply from their wounds
But for anyone, like them
It will never be too late to do the right thing.

For all of us,
It’s too late for a fear of shame
To keep us tame
and make us lame
More scared of labelling than loving all life

It’s too late to be disgusted
That’s how we all get used
With trauma bonding
And comrade trolling
This techno feuding is only gonna build
Build their feudal power

It’s too late for division in our opposition to division
Which means it’s too late for racists
And newly addled anti-racists
Wanting health by causing more wounding?
Wanting worth from identity fiction?
That’s dropping justice both here and everywhere.

May I, may I, remember
To love myself for allowing the confusion
When wanting to truly know
To love myself for falling into separation
When wanting to safely grow
A petal, a thorn
On a creaking tree of life

Come now cosmos,
take off these masks
Free our raw face of ferocious love
It’s too late to live in daily theatre
With costumes and lines
and it’s too late for our needs to shine
To be getting in our way
so thank you God for making it too late
Way too late for any of that.

You’ve made it too late to dawdle
on saving what we can
And too late for pretending
that we know that we can
You’ve made it too late to argue
That it’s too late for love
For now love will be our means
And so love will be our ends