What if mother nature is mad at us?

She told us that
our fumes are poisonous
our water turned from majestic blue to coal seaweed color
her innocent animals are dying from bullets and thorns
plastic flying on branches as if they were nature green leaves

she told us this

And we did not listen to her
we did not
we took her for granted

So she got mad
created something that can destroy the ones who betrayed her
a virus that kills us
making us afraid to leave from the safe box

She is not evil
she is only trying to help the animals live longer
and live with no fear

Venice water is clear as a mirror
for dolphins to swim
for swans to dance
they are living with no fear
she's happy her artwork can't be destroyed
for now

we owe her an apology for the mistakes we created
we must stop the hateful crime
and love the artworks she created
before once again we suffer in pain

The wind doesn’t blow through their hair like it does the others.

It meanders through the curls of our melanated mothers.

It carries heavy accents infused with both love and suffering

over badly connected telephone lines

and the language barriers of anglocentric confines.

It navigates their thick 4c forests

as do the rigid combs they brandish to govern expanding crowns

that sit above scalps which resemble

the most polished oak.

devouring fires
the sky's made vast
ask eternity to heal
from those whom desire bleeds
the smiles decaying
the universe filled with the remains of stars
use days embrace to melt those with glass hearts
with a haunting mornings breath
time concretes over life's color
bring and give
While I lay here dead

With each verse spoken, clouds dance the skies to heaven.

mountains move, stretching tall,
the tree tops kiss the stars, without fear of the fall.
Inside resides faith, far from small.

There’s truth now behind, that great irony:
You can’t see the forest from its multitudinous trees.
Well, at least be aware that
the spirit is there in entirety.
It encompasses space that
time will erase
unless its wisdom we heed.
But the spirit remains for a moment.
A ghost put to shame, and
we are to blame, for owning it which cannot be tamed.
Time is meaningless, but the
world isn’t gleaning this, not
understanding this fleeting kiss,
our touch is infectious, reckless
there is no way to reset this.
Denature our Mother that
we so unjustly smother
for this appetite we can never sate.
As Love turns to Hate,
Our Kiss turns to ****,
til we ignore what we can’t flee,
can’t see the Forest from the Trees.

I walked my walk, learnt people aren't permanent.
Remember this my tree, you'll just die in peace.
Must have been cold to get uprooted for nothing, while they say it's for their own thing.
Would be ironical if they make a diary out of your leaves.
And sure will they in joy, whilst leaving you to torment.

Rot you my trrrrrree.....