What if it did not mean dominion

Those reckoning by the tide-shifter’s phase
To segment eras into months, years, seasons,
We weren’t to sleep the days; to say we forgot
Reasons, riot, insurrections, murmurs, rumbles,
Torrents volley out of time, our self-deception
And plastic shields, so much spinning on a dime
As golden is concealed, many bright ones leaving,
Lost generations within and without in grieving
For both sight and kin, we ebb, revisit and inlet
Those who do not forget, yet we still do not see,
Clad in axioms of majesty, we still abuse the tides,
Pollute pulses, carbon words, origins, novel seeds
By what is done, no legacy or glory in glut or decline
As custodians of time are we to guard its collapse?
Our society lapsed as many sightlessly observant
Adulterated the current, so many with sight left
All bereft of our core, tear-screened, un-noticing
With any sense nor feeling, internal touch or sight
Missing each bright splinter cloaked in oblivion
So nothing beckons us to make it our only filter
As we don’t witness each shard of resurgence
In our transposal by sun we become dry chard
We mistranslate our unresponsiveness as hope
Leave it to the world to cope, as we too transgress;
We ignore climatic shifts yet think to be rewarded,
We too broke recorded rules to choose life as a gift
Our lore to flow not drift, dust and lift off the shelves
Rules we ourselves transcribed as roving protectorate;
It is not too late to decry dominion and to be alive
In stewardship with dignity as we defy jaded opinion
In re-emancipation yoked still to the constant unity;
To relearn the skill of rhythms in the diversity of one.