Woman.
With her hips
Her curves like the turns in the waves
Her hair is a tangled parade
Her lips do not speak when they kiss but they say
I miss you
in other ways
Skin soft like early morning dew.
There is mist in the hills of you.
Oh Mother Earth
With her dirt
Her trees
Her skin is made of these
Ancient in her energy
Shaved of her trees, she lays naked beneath your feet
Where mother and child do not meet
Is the root to the trees of your deceit
This is woman.
This is what woman says to me.
Where are you if not lost within my leaves?
My trees cannot hear your tongue move or your body speak
My magnetics do not understand how you have become lost in the plastic compass of a brick like man.
You are wrong!
To not offer your own mother a hand!
For the love
Of a brick-like man.
Do you fear how a threat will perceive you mother bear?
He is but a taste
Not the apex of your cares
mother bear.
Or lioness
Caress
My earth with your fur
Meet me in the dirt
And I will scrub you of your hardness
We are worshippers of the moon
The stars speak only to you
In reflections of the water
In dimensions of your daughter
And hers.
Woman.
It is your turn.
The planets are aligned with your spine.
Speak coarse
or speak fine,
but speak.
Silence in these times are not weak.
If only your mountains would peak
In the mind.