Who are they to take away your words?
Thick streams trickle down from between your thighs
mountains, cavernous, spring up on
Forever-rivulets emerge from your eyes and turn,
in the cold, caressing light of the moon
into liquid silver
in each drop a world, contained
only because you are reluctant to set it free.
The mountains, they move
with a titanium power and a honey-smooth softness
that makes the Mother wonder at
her own creation.
So, you see, this is why She hurts to watch you
demolish those mountains into
She pains to see you
cut those rivers short
stop them in their tracks
bulldoze the forests and
tear down the hills
bring in machinery
modify, cut, sharpen, hem, tweak, fix
She suffers to see you so.