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Our Mother's Story

Affluent descent raining from above;
Its graceful search for the boundless Seas
Gently shrouding in its veiling mists
The great continent now drifted apart
By pulsing veins of nature’s fury.
From deep below she cries in vain,
Her raging sequence and rumbling sigh.

Alas! A merfolk seen from land,
She leadeth me by the hand.
What do I hear from far below?
Poseidon’s beckon roaring fierce
Against the shore of rocky shears.
This, my love, is nature’s glory
Sealing fate in rhythmatic song.

The flowers are her noble scent,
The ground her back, now crook’d, bent.
Each creature plays as eyes, then ears
So she may be for years and years.
Fell one tree and shed she ten tear.
Conquered and littered by the human race
Our mother’s story becomes disgrace.

Our Mother's Story

jadekrapsen

Brookings, United States

  • Artist
    Notes
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