That It Could Be Me

That it could be me

that gathers lilies

to my breast.

to smell the scent

of innocence and not

my bitter temperament.

How can one’s spirit

be pure again when

it has wallowed in corruption?

I beseech you Mother Nature

to show me how you rise

from humanity’s befoulment.

Daily we beset your purity

with our pollution

and have no remorse.

Yet you feed us

with the milk of your breasts

and sustenance of your loins.

Only a broken heart

torments me

and I rail of injustice.

  

I plant seeds of discontent

by my unforgiving spirit

and harping tongue.

Mother Nature, you are victimized

and you send your seed child

to bloom in the desert.

Show me the way of your footpath

that I may walk away from my bile

and see kindness restored.

©Susie Clevenger 2012

   Written for Magpie Tales Mag 120