Back to Earth

Back to earth (in memory of the Chilean miners, rescued after 69 days)

It’s twelve months since we lost you

                When you all turned into moles.

Where did you all go to that day?

                Somewhere down that bloody black hole. 

You must have been frightened so badly

                When you heard the rumbling and boom,

The fall of the rock and the mud

                The building of your very own tomb. 

The heat & humidity

                Were already beating you down,

But the dust & the smoke in the air

                Killed all the colour, making all brown. 

The darkness, headlamp flashing lights

                Cutting through the chaos down there.

Gathering together in fright

                Rubble & bodies everywhere. 

You found your ways along the galleries

                To get to the survival place.

You helped one another to get there

                Still living, with God’s good grace. 

Thirty-three miners, lucky to be alive,

                Gasping & grasping, together in strife,

All piled up in the shelter,

                Coughing & weeping, but holding to life. 

How did you hang on, so deep underground?

                How did you live on in the dark?

Breathing & living together

                Cradled, hoping, in your dingy black Ark. 

But then came a breakthrough:

                They’d tried in so many ways.

A lifeline came down from the surface,

                After you’d lived for so many days. 

There came food & so many messages,

                A signal of help from above,

With Camp Hope up on the surface,

                Knowing that you lived on in their love. 

So many girlfriends and sweethearts,

                And in some cases one of each.

There’ll be some explaining to do later,

                When up to the surface you reach!

Then came the news you’d all hoped for:

                The drill with the rescue shaft,

And the Phoenix cage come to get you,

                A torpedo-like craft.

Finally it’s back to the surface

                Pulled up there one after another.

To meet again with your loved ones:

                The wives & sisters & brothers. 

It’s all in the media spotlight,

                As you come out blinking to earth,

Pulled from the bowels of the planet,

                Delivered from death, more like a birth. 

The grainy TV images showed up your joy,

                To be returned to the light of the day.

Now you have to re-find your true lives,

                And work out just what to say. 

Some say you’ll be celebrities,

                For living so long under ground.

You’ll all have your stories,

                About when you were finally found.

------------------------------------

The tents and the marquees have gone now,

                The generators all shut down.

The peace has returned to the desert,

                And all the plants have re-grown.

The TV crews have moved on to new stories,

                No longer seeking your views.

For a while you were Chilean heroes,

                But now your plight is old news. 

So we’ll all raise a glass of Chilean Merlot,

                If we can still find any to buy.

The shops have all sold out now

                As everyone rushed out to try. 

It’s twelve months since we lost you

                When you all turned into moles.

Where did you all go to that day?

                Somewhere down that bloody black hole.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2011