Mother vs. Man c. 1981

I cried out, “What shall I write?”
To a lush green area in my sight.
“Write of what you love,” answered the sky.
“Write of what you hate,” said the bird on high.
“Write of what you know,” explained the ground.
The summer sun blazed my brow without a sound.
So I sat in a place and scribbled in the sand,
I decided that I should leave my mark on the land.
It took me several weeks I must profess,
Though it may have been years, I can only guess,
But when satisfied by the cipher of my hand
I began to leave this place, older and a bit tanned.
Then came the Mother with her wind and rain
Washing away my masterpiece, leaving me in pain.
I began to ponder Her act of disregard and unkindness,
So began I to destroy Her work with Rage’s blindness.
I left my mark on Mother, branding Her brow
Showing Her manipulative human power, “I’m in control now!”
Thought I in a blur of demigod prowess,
But She had been fighting back nonetheless
For I was older and all the more grey-
Not as young as I’d been in an earlier day.
I spied a lone flower, and bent down to sniff-
And for a brief moment it was as if…
I cried out, “What shall I write?”
To the vast raped area in my sight.
I breathed a breath of polluted sky
And scoffed at the bird that flew on high,
Then listened closely and heard not a sound-
Till mother beckoned me back to the ground.