Mother — a poem

The path, for a journey, to pastures new — the future and its fears

Image sourced from DESIGNECOLOGIST on Unsplashed.

The sunbeams slip through the gaps in my blinds,

You could say she has a funny way of telling me the time.

Mother Gaia, her warmth, everlasting, effervescent,

Her heart, still expanding, she welcomes all tenants.

Her faith, it dwindles, as they uproot her blooms,

A path forged by avarice, a pause within the tune.

So her songbirds cannot dream, and thus they cannot sing,

Of pastures far and wide, untouched by our gleam,

Of modernity, debauchery, the future is here,

The sky becomes a smoggy pall, a songbird’s worst fear.