Mother's milk spilled over the table....
onto the floor
The long told fairy tale
has become a daunting chore
to tell
As we are dying collectively
On our way in a hand basket to hell
We rape and pillage, and fail to see
The fears of our mama, her eyes swell
with rivers of drying dreams
River death beds drying
Fish choking in the streams
Air only suitable for those dying
Living half alive, concocting endless schemes
Life on a dying planet
We must change the tale's end
We have so much power, damn it
Rekindle the desire to fight and defend
Our collective mother and the womb
we were all shot out of
We all recall the beauty of the fleshy room
Suspended in her liquid love
Yet, when she offers the milk from her breast
We push it aside for chemical reactions
Saying science and greed and distortion is best
As we disregard the nature of the contractions
Of our mother who lives aching and alone
She gave us life....innate wisdom and joy
We never stop by or call, silent is her phone
Time to be good little girls and boys
And love up the one who held us inside her
The pristine places where the oceans meet the land
Cry out for healing, time to revive her
Reach out to your mama, extend your hand
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