ROSE ON THE MOUNTAINS. Please Help End Mountain Top Removal Mining by Stephen Craig Rowe

Though I have lived most of my adult life in cities, towns, and the farm. I was blessed as a child with a deep abiding love and respect for nature. Have never lived in the mountains but have visited them east and west in the USA, plus while living in Europe I became in awe of the lure and beauty of the mountains. As a city slicker I have read about strip mining for coal and did not think much about it until I only recently learned of mountain top removal mines. I was in shock, my mind turned white as a ghost as my Irish began turning red at the thought of anyone blowing the top of a mountain off for monitary gain. How and why would anyone do such a thing?

Have the bloody bastards no conscience? I fear not.

Did a bit of research and found some good people that are about the cause of ending and preventing Mountaintop removal mining. The rose is a symbol of love, respect and care for the mountains and the betterment of all. Please take a moment of your time to explore the following links and to see what part you can be to end this crime against nature and humanity.

http://ilovemountains.org/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mountain_top_removal

http://www.mountainjusticesummer.org/facts/steps.php

Thank you, and as ever be well,

Stephen Craig Rowe

Post Script: Special thanks to Kathryn Magendie

http://www.tendergraces.blogspot.com/

http://www.kathrynmagendie.com/

THE GREEN WALL A Walk Of Words By Stephen Craig Rowe

The effort of the lands and hands that ever try to lay back the green are but a false hope.  A half filled sand bag thrown into raging flood waters ever rising and quenching earths deep thirst to draw man beyond the madness of holding her. 

Translating the tides to fit a neat bit for a short time only is as selfish a task as drinking the whole cold creek dry.

For a time.  And the old world had no blinds or walls or words.

When the green was the garden of all and creatures had no walls to wait for the slash and burn.

Old worn hands and faces, generations of walls, wailing streets, sad windows and fences will never hold back the green walk of words

well spent

For there are no walls to hold back the green.

As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe