I think the next area we’ve had difficulty in is that of the waste of pollution. My generation was productive and even inspired in the field of invention. We saw the immediate needs of the population and satisfied those needs in an impressive fashion. However, our genius may have been premature on many occasions. We forgot, in our excitement, the total effects of these inventions compiled after years of use. Merely from looking at our polluted air and rivers we come to realize that possibly we implemented in haste without looking to the future. My generation gratified those immediate needs through all sorts of mechanical innovations to produce comfort. But in so doing, we forgot and possibly indelibly marked the sweet, quiet, natural comforts of this world that God has placed for us. My son, after coming back to Utah—I’m sure he couldn’t have done this in the East—thought it wise to write a little poem on air and pollution...
Air
"Air comes from a complicated
chemical occurrence
And continues to bless us
with ceaseless abundance.
But what if one day
The air left with rain,
How could we convince it
To come back again?
The air would complain,
“Why,
you creatures must hate me.
There’s smoke and smog
As far as you can see,
And people don’t care
Enough to stop smoking.
Just one cigarette
Depresses me choking.”
And nobody stops a moment to ponder
If enough air exists in expanses out yonder.
Up buildings,
down trees,
Air comes with the breeze.
Life is forever
An end?
Oh, never.
Why look at me,
I’m breathing with ease.
“There ought to be laws,”
says a lawyer.
“There ought to be ways,”
says a chemist.
“Where are the clean rivers?”
asks Tom Sawyer.
“Why,
the plants are all dying,”
claims a botanist.
A clean river formed the Grand Canyon.
Tall trees were chopped by Paul Bunyan.
You and I ignited this war
The moment
we decided to pour
The wastes of the day
On the world
in a reckless way.
Why,
you can’t see the sun anymore.
And nobody stops a moment to ponder
If enough air exists in expanses out yonder.
Up buildings,
down trees,
Air comes with the breeze.
Life is forever
An end?
Oh, never.
Why look at me,
I’m breathing with ease.
I think the whole problem
Stems from the fact
That air is abundant,
Too abundant to lack.
It’s always been there
Since the world was created,
But a wholesome-type air
Will soon be outdated.
And nobody stops a moment to ponder
If enough air exists in expanses out yonder.
Up buildings,
down trees,
Air comes with the breeze.
Life is forever
An end?
Oh, never.
Why look at me,
I’m breathing with ease."
...
When we consider pollution, again we must ask the question: For what purpose is this waste?
