Will butterflies knit spring to summer?
Will salmon recognize home?
Will sugar pines arabesque in a northern forest?
How will I fare in a climate-changed world?
How will any of us?
In the face of our uncertain climate future, Anna Turns of the U.K.’s The Conversation, suggests we turn to poetry, specifically haiku.
I sought solace in this prompt:
Try jumping a decade ahead, imagine how something every day and ordinary might fare in a climate-changed world, start with what you notice and tune into your senses. Your words might surprise you.
uncertain future
chrysalis begins
believes in tomorrow’s blooms
bless my unbelief
©2026 Patricia J. Franz
Patricia Franz writes picture books and poetry. She believes children, dogs, and sourdough have a lot to teach us about life, joy, and wonder. She has raised two boys, four dogs, and holds a master’s degree in Theology with a focus on children’s spirituality. Patricia, her husband, her Bernese Mountain dog, Bonny, and her sourdough starter split their time between the Arizona desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains.
“bless my unbelief” — thanks for the thought provoking poem. there is hope!
Patricia, your questions are deep, probing thoughts. Will I be able to only dream about the majesty of Autumn? Will the trees continue to cast brilliant colors to dazzle our earth? Your poem brings hope into the picture. Happy Fall!
Questions like these are invaluable to a poet and you have used them with precision in your haiku response, Patricia. Haiku requires such precise word selection and you have risen to the challenge. These questions prompt us as reader to continue to probe deeper into this topic/theme.
Patricia, you had me at butterflies knitting spring to summer! xo
what I love about this offering is the freshness of ‘knit spring into summer’ and ‘bless my unbelief.’ My goodness, what a different way of seeing so beautifully expressed. Haiku is such a powerhouse of poetry. You painted these well.
This weekend, I’m giving in to our climate-changed back garden with its low spot that fills with rain during our every more frequent monsoonical rainstorms. My iris have rotted. The zinnias have a waist-high floodline. I will buy native rain garden plants and hope that they thrive and draw the ever-decreasing insect and bird life to our tiny chemical-free oasis.
Such a thought-provoking post, Patricia, beginning with the questions. It’s like a little demonstration of a way to brainstorm ideas. Thank you!
This post both makes my heart hurt, and gives me hope. The image of a chrysalis conveys hope and beauty. May it be so.
The prompt reminded me of a novel, Patricia — I wonder if you’d like it, or have read it. AWAKE IN THE FLOATING CITY by Susanna Kwan was a gorgeous novel — an imagining of a flooded world, but all about the humanity, art, beauty, and pain. It never got the attention I thought it deserved. Just an fyi book rec! 🙂
Ooh! Checking this out on LIbby now! Thanks for the rec, Karen.
Patricia–this beautiful aching post and the thing I wrote this morning are meeting in the middle as I also struggle with my unbelief. Thanks for helping me hold on, my friend.
Your haiku! The fact that we are called to believe in tomorrow’s blooms and it’s not always easy.
Yes, “How will I fare in a climate-changed world?” How will we all fare… It’s hard to ponder but important to do so. Your poem, hope in the heart of melancholy, pulls at my heart, thanks. P.S. enjoyed seeing/meeting you online last week, and getting a glimpse into your WIP poems–hope they take flight!