Earthen Progeny

Mon, 06/22/2015 - 21:50 -- hchamet

Your hands fit so neatly around stones

and your fingers slide so easily into dirt

amazing how fresh the Earth feels

when you look into its eyes and say

“Hello, old friend”.

Money and envy; suitemates in green

cackling with power

they’ve stolen from the leaves and the trees

Green is the color of saplings leaning in the wind

bent like children craning necks to the sky

in search of other worlds

Green is vast towers of forest

the most patient cradle

worn and soft with time and wisdom

Green is rolling hills

songs of Mother Nature and

her progeny’s knees from kneeling

Green is parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme

Green has been wrongfully accused

crimes of envy were not done in green

the idiom needs reworking

amazing how new the earth feels

when you stop assigning it false pretenses.

Life is too fleeting not to take the weight of the world

off of your shoulders and into your palms.

Too fleeting not to squish your toes into the mud

Too fleeting not to love the Earth fully

like a Mother, and an old friend.

This poem is about: 
Our world

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