Our Mother

Our Great Mother

Her patience is immeasurable,

Her tolerance - unimaginable.

And yet, she feels burdened

While her patience runs out.

To ease herself, to save her spine,

And to save most of her children,

She forsakes a few of them

With thunder bolts of death,

Warning the rest with fury

Without showing the grief

Withheld in her eyes.

She is, my people,

Our Great Mother,

Nature.