An Ode to Patient Earth

Can you see her emerald eyes?
Her mane of lavish brush.
Or notice how her figure shimmers
With dew and moonless dusks.

Can you taste her trickling voices?
When they sing their joyful hymns.
But his face peeks through blades of shade
And corrupts their joy with shame and sin. 

Can you hear her weeping?
Cradling scraps of barren bone. 
The tears she sheds don't penetrate
His wealth of stick and stone. 

She bellows gusts of rage
They're ignored by his empires
Her children ashen,
Homeless from the greed of manmade fires.
She's frailer than her youth
For his eternities she tires.
She's only laid to rest
Once the age of him expires.