Mother Can You Hear Me?

Mother Can You Hear Me

My breath, like
winds through the leaves
whispers a longing to find home.

But home is fleeting
for little remains behind of trees and meadows
once run rich with the eloquence of kindred spirit
whose voices echoed of an Ancient past.

The machine moves on,
and the stars from this city view
sing a little less loudly
as I search these skies in vain.

And this heart stills a beat slower
alas, the woes of this Age do not part their way
for peering eyes searching for Light
but prefer instead to adhere to unsuspicious minds
pasting themselves upon incandescent billboards
disguised as Truth.

And still,
the machine rages on
no conscience or conscious thought ~
disavowing Nature’s Laws
whilst its man-made ones
bring a totalitarian corruption upon the purity of the land;
testament of what has been wrought by its own tainted hands.

Through the trails of tears I remain,
amidst the decay and destruction,
collecting one of every stone,
collecting one of every branch,
displaying them on the shelf
as they wish to be viewed.

Mother, can you hear me?
My heart grieves for you…

2006 Giddebol