Nothing Less or More

Nothing less or more we are,

A vessel of our maternal spherical clay.

Who bears our heritage roots and our poignant treads,

As her seedlings shall not stray away.

Nothing less or more we are,

Than the balletic finesse of erratic tides.

Timelessly evolving through crests and troughs,

Bearing the cyclical nature in our strides.

Nothing less or more we are,

To the unbound winds with freedom’s essence.

With each breath of air, a nonpareil liberty,

A tribute to embracing individualities’ presence.

Nothing less or more we are,

To ribbons of azure and crimson entwining in ghostly trance.

With fervent purposes and insatiable desires,

Like ravenous wildfires, voraciously we dance.

Nothing less or more we are than the four in rhyme that coincide,

Yet beneath her celestial veils, wounds deepen from our heedless plight.

A temple of splendor marred, our lamenting maternal guide,

And as she pleads, tread lightly, as she remains our eternal birthright.