A poem in honor of Mother Nature and the vastness of her beauty. |
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Who are you? Who created you? Mother Nature created you Herself, with assistance from Our Father yet you disrespect Her incessantly? Touch your face; feel skin upon skin Mother has given you what She can't have; physicality, awareness, form.
So when you next feel the surge of a cool breeze against your cheek, thank Her... not only for your being; but for Hers For Mother Nature is everywhere, everyone, everything. She is the formidable tree you climbed and conquered at just 8 years old She is the briny blue ocean that practically swallowed you whole as you learned of Her crude warnings She is the juicy, sweet, crisp apple you bite into; the apple your last baby tooth finds itself stuck, separated from the mouth She gave you in hopes that you would tell Her story...
Will you speak of Her? Or will you rip every hair from your head, Pluck your eyes from their sunken sockets, Dislocate your joints with vigor, Peel the skin from your dense muscles, and snap your milk-white bones as you cry "I have no creator!"
Refrain; instead, articulate Her tale; otherwise You will have destroyed, demolished, ruined Her
for She is You.
-JS
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