Crystol Woods Poet Free verse

Mother Earth: Garden Womb

Mother Earth:Garden Womb

She is not virginal
Not unused
Not pure
Being ancient 
and of old,
Inevitably,
Been touched before. 

Many years 
a widow,
She is a lonesome, 
barren land.
So many 
passing lovers;
Needing a faithful
Husbandman.

For she was present
In the first garden;
Feeling the slithering belly
Of the snake. 
And when
 the curse was given, 
One womb quickened, 
And The other  
Was Laid waste. 

The womb smells 
of dusty earth.
Her salty tears 
bring only pain. 
She waits for 
the Husbandman 
To finally bring 
the latter rain. 

He will work
 the soil
Scrap metal fingers 
through to damp. 
In love 
and anticipation, 
Tiny seeds 
he will plant. 

If the womb
 is ready,
If it is
 the perfect time, 
Then 
the Planted seeds
Will grow
 into 
The True Vine. 

Growth 
will begin, 
Bearing fruit, 
Lusty, 
Strong, 
And Bold. 
Increasing
 and multiplying
Making a Mother
Of the Old.

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