When Mother Nature met Father Time,
She knew he was the one.
The one who would create the butterflies in her mountain belly
And winds across her fluttering prairie heart.
She knew that he would erupt a volcano that would burn her skin
And destroy her,
But the birds, when they fly, cast shadows
Not even the blindest bat could see through.
As they grew older together,
They grew in love together.
Time and Nature blend together
Into a chameleon that camouflages so perfectly,
That the bare naked eyes cannot tell it’s there.
They wanted to create something,
That would show their love to the other stars.
Something that says hey,
We are an unshakable dust bowl
Ready to engulf you all with the soil that grows our berries,
Sweet with the juices of kissable blood.
They called this love “Earth”,
And Father Time took earth in
His hands and said to the loveless masses
In the deep black bubble,
Look at how beauty is made.
Look at this love between a man and a woman.
Look at when she plants the child into the ground,
And look at how I make sure it grows.
How wonderful is it,
To create the perfect manifestation
Of feelings that two gorgeous beings hold for each other
And hold for each other still.
A passion, that blooms in the desert
Nurtured on the rasping mirage of water.
Because their unity does not need to thrive
On the promises of vaporized gold.
Time flew by fast on the grounds of love,
So fast that the fourth child came up to his father
And ask him a question.
Why Mother Nature?
Out of all the brightest stars in the infinity,
Father Time whispered to his little hour
So softly that even the Gods could not hear him,
And he said,
When I met your mother for the first time
I knew she was the one.
The one who would stir the sand in my hourglass belly.
And make my pendulum heart sway.
I knew that she would grind the gears in my brain
Until they turned to dust,
But I didn’t care.
We both know that eventually,
This enchantment will end us both.
We will bring ourselves to ruin
Her within me and me within her,
Within the boundaries of the tides Mother Nature and Father Time
Shall decide to melt into foam.
And children, when that moment comes
This love shall be left up to you.
Take care of it for us,
And let it be the garden to grow your own story.