By Moriah Lavey
Author’s Note: This poem attempts to take a critical look at the relationship we have created with our Mother, Nature. It is a reminder to act with love and compassion.
“Shall I not have intelligence with the earth?
Am I not partly leaves and vegetable mould myself?” – Henry David Thoreau
She gives us a home in Her sweet, lush orifice
We develop with Her
Love with Her
She smiles upon us.
And with Eli Whitney we begin to fondle her breast,
Testing out Her waters.
She is giving
She wants us to thrive
Despite Her discomfort.
Somewhere between the railroads and Rockefeller
We lose ourselves
In the utility of our Mother
So we slide our hand under Her pants,
Desperate to grow a made up concept.
Economy means nothing to Her,
But She takes care of Her children.
She cries, yet we continue to take advantage
Thinking that the more of Her we take, the happier we become.
She writhes under our forceful touch
Reaching a breaking point
Yet we surge forward.
Filling Her every empty hole with greed.
We rape and pillage Her beautiful body
Lost in wrongful anthropocentrism.
How much longer can we stand to abuse Her?
She cannot take any more.