a Mother's Nature

To My Loved Ones part 1 of 3. Written to family members shortly before moving abroad, and having to leave them behind.

I often muse on the vacillation

of Mother Nature; her ever-changing

silhouette and her shifting complexion.

She morphs from loving to deranging.

 

Boasting blossoms in her hair, we are stirred

by springtime promises.  Enveloped by

her quickening warmth. Love thought undeterred

until seasons do change and Autumn draws nigh.

 

Now grows her face stern, no more is her love

as the world wilts away and the colours fade.

Stripped bare, our branches like the cracked palms of

beggars stretch out in vain. Alone. Afraid.

 

Contrasting to my own mother’s love, so

unparalleled and immutable. Her

embrace grows warmest in the cold, and though

winters come, spring reigns when I am with her.

 

I will not fear the changing seasons, for

her strength is mine, she’s my rock evermore.