Believe in the real creator
who within dark
and dreamy seams
inspires the shrubs and vines
and leaves, who shines the sun,
conspires with the atmosphere
and devours ******
sacrificial the creatures
to feed the progeny.
She runs wild, her appetite
inventive, insatiable
archaically from the time
any one thing mated, grew
leaves or breathed.
Bless her. The Mother.
Her calamities cause
change, rearrange the game,
her strength, her holistic songs
inspire in wind and storms.
Bless Nature, eternity long.