Mother, put the world to bed

The planes are steadfast on the runways because nature has retaliated again and now
Its raining ash across Europe. Holding countries hostage. Airport’s backlogged with claustrophobic passengers.

Mankind’s mother can be the most brutal enemy; We at war with each other and
She at war with us; and only when she attacks, do we see.

She blows gales so strong; cities wiped clean of civilisation, eradicating lives as a dirty stain; tornado whirlwinds hoovering up houses and hospitals, leaving broken families and street crime. The ground can shake and crumble into feeble dust, as she shakes up Gods etch-a-sketch, like a furious child.

Sometimes we are punished with a great wave. Extending the oceans.
Drowning villages. Or the throwing of fatal bombs
in the form of volcanic lava that
leak over the earth like hot wax, drying to stone.
She can set the forests alight
burning fires across countries too hot to be relieved of furious flames.
Turning the sky black with soot.

And as we fight her with endurance we struggle to understand
That we always lose against her battle. Her power
Controlling a global human balance that we can’t even
Nuke and destroy.

So when the next day breaks will our children be awoken
to the thunderous screams and lashes of lightening
of Mother-Earth?
Will they acknowledge the stampede like the sound
of her heart as it pulses through her rivers and oceans
And will we understand why she takes
So many lives for her own in the sacrifice of her beauty.
When she just wants us to see
That we have mutilated her for centuries.