Mother Earth

EARTH DAY (APRIL 22 and every day)

Despite date rapists

Feeding her chemicals

For quiet pliancy

Despite thieves

Stealing her jewels

Of gold, silver, uranium

Hidden in her

Deep, dark pockets

Despite ripping at her

Strongly skillful hands

Lovingly tending the roots

Of trees

That shelter, oxygenate, and feed

Of weeds

Intrinsic providers for healing

Of fruits and vegetables

To nourish her hungry children

Through it all

Her molten core

Fecund to the end

Like a Baby Boomer

Listening to the music

In her soul

Dancing, singing

Shouting out

“I am the mother

Of you all

And will never die”

Because the future holds

Glorious consensual couplings

With water, air, fire

And while they helplessly fail

To protect her now

She maintains her sanity

Knowing what is right

And she will never give up…

© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

Image: earth-greens



Does Mother Earth

Ever tire from her

Single parent role

Doing it all

Constantly impregnated

Fighting the seeping poisons

Raining down from Father Sky

Flooding up from her secret lover

Riptide-tossed Ocean


Exhausting days

As she craves

A protective cradling

Being held and hearing a deep voice

Whispering, All will be right

Rest with me

Healing words encouraging

Mother Earth’s protective aura

To radiate once again

Strengthening the soil’s largesse

Bringing sweetness to the smell of Wind

Cleansing the Waters and all dwelling in his domain

Receiving, once again, sky Fire’s passionate touch

But when?


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: ·  qimmahrussoI’ll Be Your World You Be My Universe. (Pinterest)



Leyland Cypress

Name suggesting

Ley lines on the land

Lovingly planted

When the century was new

Barely as tall as my knee

To someday be

A screening tree

Southern climate

Encourages it

To grow, grow, grow

Shielding me from nasty neighbors

Hiding ugly PVC pipes

Reaching through sand

To provide water from a well

Extending to hell, for all we know

Because Florida aquifers

Are right below the surface

Deep wells don’t really exist

For those of us living a few miles

From the Gulf

Yet on my dirt road

Where city water will not condescend to travel

A ten-foot water well

Is used for drinking and showers

Now my beautiful tree

Is cankered

I’ve pruned

Sprayed Lysol and alcohol

But the prognosis is bleak

Mourning sets in

As the air-borne disease

Already seeks the new tree

I will not be here

If the baby escapes illness and death

If it grew while the century flew

To its mid-time

But still

A tree should be

Part of Mother Earth’s crown

But like many of her jewels

It will disappear forever…


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)