When I first read this poem I'd never heard of fracking, but the Gulf was still reeling from the BP oil spill. I hope the fine they have to pay for their negligance puts them out of business, but they'll probably pay pennies on the dollar. The drought down south hadn't hit yet. The forcast on ice melt was bad, but not dire. Nobody had heard of the Polar Express. (sixteen below in Eugene, ulp.) And I hadn't run across a movie called Bitter Harvest or the book, The Poisoning of Michigan that details the whole sad, sorry chain of events that lead to the whole sale poisoning of an entire state by PBB's (polybrominatedbiphenols). Somehow, someway I need to figure out how to do some entries on this, because the story isn't over. The plant that produced the chemicals is closed...and one of the worst superfund sites in the country.
I AM YOUR MOTHER
I am your mother, do not neglect me!
Children protect me-I need your trust;
My breath is your breath, my death is your death,
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
I am your nurture; do not destroy me!
Love and enjoy me, savor my fruit;
My good is your good, my food is your food,
Water and flower, branches and root.
I am your lodging, do not abuse me!
Tenderly use me, soothing my scars;
My health is your health, my wealth is your wealth,
Shining with promise, set among stars.
The Creator is our maker, do not deny,
Challenge, defy or threaten this place.
Life is to cherish, care, or we perish!
I am your mother tears on my face.
Adapted from a prayer by Shrley Erena Murray in a Methodist Womens’s study guide for mom's UMW fellowship.