 Nature Speaks to Men
for Mother Nature
The struggle I made to understand who you are
And fit you into my system was a waste of time.
I should have seen you for the burrowing parasite that you are.
You say you care about animals, earth and people?
Yet you take time to have the people that you work with
Use tools to tell me that my messages are not important.
You do not speak to me directly.
If you did, you might have heard my messages.
So, my messages have no impact on your actions
You quit taking the time to try to understand
Where I am coming from, what makes me be
What makes it possible for me to survive?
You quit walking the paths that I’ve made for you;
You made your own and punish those who don’t use them.
Your actions scar earth’s skin.
You covered the land where you live
With ugly concrete and asphalt
And every day you press on it with rubber —
Rubber on cars, rubber on shoes—so much rubber that
Tire piles are heaped about the landscape.
Black they are and gather heat until some catch fire
The stench of the smoke fills the air
As they smolder forever, toxifying the air and ruining
Earthly gardens.
You want to feel proud of what you’ve done.
So you give awards to people
Who think of special things to do with your messes
But everytime you use your brain, you mess things up further.
The only true award is a day of sunshine after a rain on the garden.
If you took time to grow a garden, you would understand.
All you had to do is look and see that Mother Nature
Cannot digest and work with the products that you devise:
Arlene, Bret, Cindy, Dennis, Emily, Franklin, Gert, Harvey, Irene,
Jose
Katrina, Lee, Maria, Nate, Ophelia, Philippe, Rita
They have made their visits this year;
People of all nations, if they wanted could see
Mother Earth sick from global warming
She told you when she wasn’t feeling well that you must change
You didn’t; kept abusing the world made for you.
Even my bigger message, Katrina, has little effect on you.
You do not care. You do not take time to understand:
The ocean tides are earthly spasms and
The massive waves washing your shores
Is a retching from the sickness as the earth vomits.
You engineer my death.
The irony is, if I die, you die.
You have more important things to do: fame, fortune, money.
Things that were not in my system.
You mined my healing crystals
Ones I nurtured for a long time —
You called them diamonds, you dug them up.
You made tools, super tools and super-sized tools to
Steal them from me.
They were in my bowels.
I did not give them to you; you just took them
But you don’t admit it to yourself.
Do you not think I see or understand?
You pretend to understand spirit
You pull up plants thinking that by burning them
You can move your prayers ahead of mine
You separate men from women
In the work that you do
Even in native sweat lodges.
Yet you say that you honour your mother
You say that women have their own power
Yet you pretend to heal them and
Think little of taking advantage of their vulnerabilities
It is still important that they cook and work for you
So you have time, not to hunt and bring back food
But to look for money and make the woman sign a paper
That she has no right to the money
That you have gotten with the time that she has freed up for you.
All you had to do was use earthly space for your children to play
And spend time in it, playing with them and occasionally honour
their mother
gifting her with a rose from your own garden.
You engineer my death.
The irony is, if I die, you die.
I’m going now. I’ve a parasite to dispel.
It shouldn’t take long; it doesn’t care about its own species.
Notes:
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