Mother Earthling

Now the time will tell.
Now the knower will kneel.
Fire rounds her landscape ship,
Measuring the timber's bell.

Now her rolling grace has fallen
As quietly as the now itself,
To windy, sandy, oiled days,
And muddy miner nights,
Cutting and plucking as rats do eat,
Feeding our corporate sight.

She rejoices in voices to be thrown,
With simple callings, pure,
Cloaked in her soft precision,
Sounds for the cities' ear,
Of easy days and humid rains,
Comfort from her aging nipple years.

Sit with her under Buddha pine
Or willow in your hair.
Know your childish ice-cream grin
Was Eden's pain to bear.

Step up and see the Sun's desire,
The wire to the other worlds,
Now in silent rape for all to have!
As muddy rivers roar,
Racing to the green littered shores,
By melting mountains,
Sweaty from our ape-metal games,
And Chevrolet strains of DNA asshole fame.

Warlock math will never work,
Our science fruits will rot.
Her beautiful rage will burst in red,
In the time when we shall be taught.
For she is --
And we are her,
And that truth shall stay and stay and stay,
(Regardless of our foolish fray)
Her formless windy smiles will always stand,
As her bosom turns the endless day.