I call you mother, yet you are much more... yes more,
Like none finds visible sea's invisible shore;
You're, indeed, O lady, beauty exorbitant,
In you, colors, shapes, and forms become so potent!
Smallest of creature-wonder, the Etruscan shrew,
Largest of the Antarctic Whale, malted grey-blue;
Acacias, that warns kiths, of possible dangers,
Mushroom that bleeds, as pierced by deadly daggers...
Wonders, like magic, you exhibit each moment,
My life is a wonder in your kind covenant;
Either entering the womb or reaching the tomb,
In you, I live and love and bud and plume and bloom...
Doesn't mother punish her naughty loving child?
Your timely wrath, indeed, is corrective, though wild;
Surprises of Angel Falls wrap me still and cool,
From unknown highs, they arrive, yet they're light as wool...
Awfully rhythmic is your mighty Milky Way,
I too, like a feather, move and happily sway;
As a mother calling her babe home after play,
You call me to rest in peace and never more stray...
21 September 2021