To Mother (A Prayer after the Cataclysms)

Tales from the Old Man – The Defiant Heart

We sat around the camp fire under the stars
as we felt the cool mountain breeze in our faces
Then the old man stood and walked in circles around the fire.
 His tattered robes swayed in the light wind.
With his gaze on the flames he lifted his cup and began:

“In those ancient times
They raped, pillaged and exploited her
They plundered everything she had given them
Through the centuries they treated her without care
And though she always gave her love in return
The eons of abuse took a toll on her
Until finally one day she lashed back
And it was only fair.

Guilty and innocent perished together,
Too many to count
It mattered not what generation stood at fault
When she unleashed all her fury
When the earth shook and the oceans rose,
When mountains crumbled and skies darkened
When deserts and valleys burned and froze
They all fell,
Cities, states, nations and empires
She cleansed through water and fire
But her justice had been done
She washed away the transgressions of men

And then she forgave us
When new generations were born
Who knew not the sins of the past
Her children would be one with her

This fire and this water
Is a reminder of a balance we must maintain
The symbiosis between us and her

To Mother”

To Mother, we all exclaimed, our cups raised
And drank the wine from the very earth we inherited.