Mother nature

Nature. Nature. Nature. 
While the world moves on, 
She stays behind. 
As if time was but invented, 
As if a portal to a time before humans, 
As if a landscape to remind us of our beginnings and our endings, nature. 
She is strong like iron and confident as a lion hunting prey. 
She finds ways to trickle through the urbanised landscape, 
As it was her home once upon a time. 
Spots of green on lamp-lit streets, 
Patches beside the footpath that remind you everything is alright,
National parks where she can flourish and let free her spirit. 

But we are killing her and her spirit.
Without her love and her acceptance, we humans can’t go on.  
She is crying, burning, withered, exhausted, 
She can not breathe.
We are cutting her air, we are burning her flesh, we are drying her soul. 
It can be stopped and we can go back, 
But we are running out of time,
And she is running out of breath.
We can go back to the times where she greeted from high within the trees,
We can keep her living like she is meant to be because she protects us, 
She sustains us. 
She is nature.