I carried them in my womb,

nurtured them with my milk,

watched them grow and multiply

and learn from me.

—

No words we exchanged,

no punishment did I mete

and yet they listened and joyfully

reaped my goodness.

—

Swiftly they learned to kill,

and my face was bloodied,

and they trampled each other;

trashed my goodness.

---

Delving deep within me

they crowed over gold and silver,

forced little ones to labour

withheld my nurture.

---

Discovering oil and coal,

they sold their soul,

like addicts without hope

and still they hang on its rope.

—

My waters were teeming,

clean, necessary to life,

they filled it with plastic and filth,

stole its life giving.

—

Slowly I’ll die, burning, weeping

like Him

for love of their love.