So as I sit watching
Staring at the sea
Seeing her reflection as she sees me
In her own eyes
The universe unfolds, revolves, rotates
At a constant rate my heart beats
So it completes a full cycle
Her breath into mine, divine
Each time she gives birth to her son
Like the darkness that was there before
His rays warming my skin
And within my soul
To quench my thirst
Her waters burst
Cleansing, refreshing
This heated dry vessel of her own creation
But with no hesitation
Sacrificed her son for the moon she embraces
As she sleeps, she weeps
Her tears form oceans, seas and rivers
But she carries and delivers
Again and again
For us to see
Some say “see what?”
But don’t what
If she wants to stop her unselfish act
No cycle, no rotation, no life
Technology, we seem to be so precise
But our tracks mark her veins
Now she’s forced to vomit toxic rains
Her water’s blocked, dam
Can’t you see that Mama needs a hand
Mama needs a hand
Like before when we were keepers everything kept to a balance
Can’t you see she needs a hand?
Cause and effect we leave our mark she feels the strain and just can’t manage
As we manoeuvre across this land
Can’t you see she needs a hand?
Mama needs a hand
And now her bones scrape and break
As the earth shakes and oceans rise
We dig deep
Remove her fertile flesh with steel teeth and leave cavities
Refill with unnatural debris
She can’t breathe because poisons leave her numb
Now her son not only warms us
But warns us of the troubles to come
Seasons are undone
The blue veins that used to run are now just dry dust beds
Wearily she lays her head on once green hills
But the shade of her forest no longer covers her depths
Tight chest with each out breath, hear her wheeze
She still sees some good deeds but needs more
We no longer understand the roles handed down to us through ancestral lines
Once roots entwined with spines, but now disconnected and left behind
New age convenience leaves our hands tied
Hardcore covers pores and sores leak what we sow
We feed on greed
Harvesting impurities while unbalanced insecurities tip the scales
Now we bathe in the blood that stains her petals from the thorns left in her side
By by-standing we’re fooling ourselves
Yeah, time heals
But the cut and paste replace just puts off what we face
And she’ll always hold her place as she did since time began
But for now her heart melts lands into dry sands
Can’t you see Mama needs a hand?