Mother Nature

Walk deep into the heart of the forest… what secrets will those leafy giants tell
With arms stretched wide to touch the very corners of the world
And roots to run deep below cities, towns, lakes, houses
Wrap your arms around the rough bark, press your face into the hollows and ask
Any question at all, for Mother Nature will tell you.
That towering divinity of rock, earth, flowers and ageless moss
Who lies slumbering at the world’s edge, only to awaken if one dares to whisper
Her name, and that of her people: the insects, the birds, the trees, the frogs
Even the fish in a burbling stream, skipping over rocks as they hide glinting scales
From a hawk’s hungry gaze.
The Mother will stoop down to grasp you in her rose-blossom hand, 
So you can stand tall on her palm, look up into those soft jadeite eyes,
And she will give you a dewdrop smile and describe it all;
Tales of her people, of yours, of the cities being built and how she was so proud
That her children wanted to be creators just like her.
She will tell stories of fires turning great forests into dust and ashen memories;
Of skies being filled with the burning sting of smoke and flaming gum leaves,
She wept back then, she mourns even now,
For the children that she lost, and their homes gone forever. Yet she remains, telling
Her stories to those who care to listen, for the forest never truly dies.