She stepped into the brambles, picking the fat ripe berries.
Her hand got stuck on a thorn, tearing her skin.
She gently blows on the bleeding scratch.
She quietly whispers “heal, my dear skin, heal!”
He packs his bags, gives her a final hug and kiss.
She closes the door behind him, her heart breaking into a million pieces.
She sits down and closes her eyes, shutting out the tears from flowing.
She folds her hands over her heart and quietly whispers “heal, my dear heart, heal!”
Reports of oil spills, floating garbage in the ocean.
Tornados, earthquakes, floods and draughts.
She can feel the earth’s vibration shift and change beneath her feet.
She lays down on her belly in the green cool grass.
Arms outstretched, palms down she whispers to the earth “heal, my dear mother, heal!”