When the Mother Cries

Listening, reaching for the Ideal, her wanderlust- devoid of fear Seeking the truth- The Mother- crying for a thousand years Of all the pain Inflicted- They are killing Her in every way Carcinogenic ants raging wars Creating immortal scars, Killing Her giving heart- She cries... FEW know But She shows me the way "There still is a place," the Great whispered in my ear, "of where hush and lull still abide. Free of the stinking, free of the rapists and killers of My apportioned Nature." So I listened and became raptured by the picture She bestowed upon me; A placidity, a serenity of depth and white Where the pines yawn And the constellations are radiant- She begged me to try; "Live my beautiful, faithful child In the place of virgin left only because THEY cannot abide by it's harshness"- "But YOU", she sang, "can consort with the beast and the beauty to make all One, As I die In all other places- I leave you this small piece of Myself." I screamed to her- Crying-"But You, knowing of All- giver of All Why abandon Your post?" "Because The cancer is burning My eternal flesh into nothing. Only I am no longer eternal." and I understood- and I followed her lead Now I stand in a place known to few, To Her, to me, and to the silent melody Of Wildness and White My eyes filled With joy as I heard Her caring moans singing to Sister Moon - Through an assemblage of wolves, as She winks at me through blue, pink and radiant emerald eyes... I know I am home. Honorable Mention in Mac Mcgovern's contest "Your Best Poem".