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The Gift

I weep at the gift you give so freely
To all, Mother Earth.
Tears of joy and thanksgiving flow,
Of your blessings upon us.

I weep also, at the gifts destroyed,
Taken for granted, by careless ones,
who steal the future from you,
 and from us.

We are taught to daily give thanks
For that loaf of bread, drink and air.
But not taught how to safeguard,
The privilege that has given this to us.

I despair for all beings living on your body,
Their home, the only home they have,
Abused, stripped of life, until naked,
And Homeless, now are we.

Oh Mother, creator of the soils, the water,
The air, support of all living things
I know that stories could be told,
of  those who lived in honor with you,
from the days of old.

But there are too many who do not listen,
Act, speak, or care.
Their only acts of courage are to trample
The lives of those who dare.

Your life’s blood spills,
As you bleed to death,
Our children, un-whole, are born,
Helpless, poisoned in their womb, 
As you have been soiled in yourn.

So dear terra, I cry for you,
For the lives that you have given,
Nature’s bounty so freely shared,
But this is the time of visions.

 

Kay Ekwall

Index of Poems, Songs and Short Stories

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Web Design and poetry copyright by Kay E. Ekwall 2009, use only by permission by request