Save our mother

The grainy soft sand beneath me grinded against my toes.

The calm summer wind whispers against my ears.

“Save our Mother,” the words seem to grow,

Then the sound of tears rings.

My eyes drift off into darkness where there were ten,

standing on the sand.

“Save our Mother,” the words come again.

I felt the presence of the Indigenous people who lived and continue to thrive on this land. 

“Save our Mother,” I knew what it meant.

Our planet is suffering from the debris of our own consumption.

The only known mankind with every intent,

who have failed to protect our world from exposure.

“Save our Mother,” time is running out now,

as we must do more to preserve our land somehow.