My Mother:

I ground my feet into Her
Gaze up at Her mountain peaks, tree tops and blue skies
Taste Her springs, swim in Her seas
Feel Her Love embrace me in the air that I breathe
Caressing my body, filling my lungs.
Her light brings life
Her dark brings depths of emotion
She blinds me yet helps me see so clearly
She inspires,
Fulfills my heart’s desires
Which is simply to feel Her
Underneath and all around me.

Pearl of the Indus,
January fades into February.
February slumbers in march on your lap,
I wonder what’s with the November criminals.
The waves of silence that
Hit our ears and eyes in October;
Did they get engulfed by the November criminals?
Late into the Maytime
January faded into February.
The flowers napped happily
As February bloomed it to march.
I understand if the flowers were stolen by the November criminals
But must they shroud the heavens too?
The little child wails along with sky and above
When the other children
Set them to fire.
November criminals;
What do you see in those November flower pots?
That you miss in march’s pots.
Do they have to crackle to bring joy in you?
Do they have to combust to bring life around you?
When they often take them away from you.
if you move with the moon every year,
why conceal it with your fog every night
during the five-day strike?
November criminals,
I’m afraid you can’t be contained.
The customs are bigger than the laws in our land.
Hopefully, you pass as a man-made disaster…
           -4324

Rain is dramatic, but short lived-
storms half-hearted.
Sun shines strong and low
through art-work cloud, and
finger-print-blooms rock and sway
on a whispering green-leaf sea.

October 2020 is the hot-sweet-tea
left outside my room, after the row I caused
when I was 15.

Love your Mother, because she loves you.
She brings you rainbows with radiant hues.
She brings you purples, reds, greens, and blues
on every flower petal, drenched in dew.

Celebrate your Mother, for her hand, is the sun.
Her gown is the wind that birds glide upon.
Her hair is babies breathe, free and undone;
growing wild in the fields where violets do run.

Blanket your Mother with adoration and time,
give her the space and peace of mind.
Her womb is a melon succulent and divine,
a grape that drips off an emerald vine.

Nurture your Mother, for the nature she holds,
never let her be compromised, bought, or sold.
Her pollen is life's one true mold.
Her soil is richer than diamonds and gold.

Nature's beauty is truly a magnificent sight;
while youth's beauty lasts only but a short time.
Nature has a side that can fright,
and worries make infirmity a crime.

Do you see the beautiful gift of nature?
thou look in the mirror, what thou see?
Is this gift nothing more than a kind gesture?
What is the image staring back at thee?

A future for all of us seems bleak;
We must not take advantage of this nature's charm.
Very soon we are going to hit that peak,
and spread the side of nature's harm.

The ripples of our decisions will forever decide.
The lost of our world's stunning gift of pride.

Legislators of social stigmatization
hand out identity before child birth,
reluctantly judged by your pigmentation,
you're given a name
and a pew in a church,
assigned to a gender with implications,
while ATM balance determines your worth

Bugs will certainly inherit the Earth

Disguised as your neighborhood
privacy invaders,
cops kick in the door
at your mother's front porch,
enforcing law written by legislators
for a routine seizure and search

Police brutality couldn't mask the depravity
of their warrants nomenclature
Capitalist crusaders terrorize Americans,
but can't keep the bugs
from their Earth inheritance

Men will shroud their evil nature
Malicious intent hides below the glacier
Camouflaged vindictive behavior
is electing dictators across the equator

Truth serenaders lobby for
congressional persuaders
to pardon these murderous
capitalist crusaders,
fitting agendas with tailor made suits,
who infect Mother Earth deep in her roots

Antibiotics couldn't heal or stop this
infection these players gave her
Pray for fire and fury
to burn away worry
when bugs surely crawl from the dirt
to inherit what's left of our Mother Earth

she is blossoming
her truth
discovering the wisdom
within her higher self
channelling divine energy
she is mother earth’s child.

breathing in
the morning sky
feeling soft grass
beneath her feet
hearing the wind
whisper gently
her lover
by her side.

it was then
that she realized
she was not alone;

everything is interconnected.