ma’s place

This is Mother Nature’s home.
We tend to forget.
She has spun and danced in the winds.
Frozen and baked lands,
Flooded and dried rivers,
While humans were mere star dust.

Her hand sweeps the skies
Dips the ocean mist.
We are but tenants of
Her home.

She will decide the colours
The airstreams coils
And roiling squalls.

And if we are to call
This home.
We, too.
May drawn again,
pulled toward the stars.


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