Think you’ve heard enough of present day Byran well take a look at past Byran.
I would just like to direct your attention top this poem I wrote a couple of years ago while sitting in the New Jersey wilderness. I intended to share it but never did, so hear it is in all it’s glory.
Ode to the Mother
The world around us is a beautiful place
Forever changing, fascinating
But why oh, why is nature our mother
Are we the sons and daughters of her labour, her creation?
What if nature were a man?
And named him father nature
Would we be altered, changed different?
This world is changing and we are no longer the sons and daughters of nature.
Nature has become ours to grow, to nurture, to destroy
When you look at a tree
What do you see?
The beauty? The wonder? The magnificence?
No, we see the materialism the consumption, the greed.
Mother Nature has been transformed
We look after our mother especially in her old age
Well Mother Nature is millions of years, so why don’t we care for her?
Why must she crumble and fall?
All this time she’s provided us with air to breathe and food to eat
Why must we slay her?
Shame on us
But still Mother Nature fights back
With the help of the few, aid her, support her, comfort her
Those of us wise enough to understand what a great Mother Nature is
Now look at a tree.
What do you see?
The beauty, the wonder, the magnificence
The infinite wisdom Mother Nature carries
As I look around in awe of this evergreen wilderness I speak to Mother Nature herself
Dearest Mother, I am sorry about the hurt and pain you suffered.
The sorrow, the agony
But now we are here to make it right
To come correct
For we are wise clever and intelligent
We will savour the water you provide for us
We will not slay the trees that provide the substance of life
We will not expel the gases that break your soft skin
This our promise.
A promise that may spill
But a contract, an ode
An ode to you dearest Mother
Don’t give up on us just yet
For we are still your children
Children make mistakes
We do all that it takes
We are in the wrong
You gave us mouths to speak
Eyes to see
Ears to hear
Noses to smell
Fingers to touch
But what are we supposed to speak
I don’t know, do you Mother?
This is our free will
You gave this to us as a gift
Something to cherish
Speak words of wisdom, words of love
Maybe a moral or message
See the wonders of this world
The magnificence it has to offer.
Hear everything around you
From the small buzzing fly to the bellow of a thunderstorm
Smell the dust that gathers on our guns, our axes, our swords
Touch the ones closest to you
Hold them tight and don’t let them fall
This is what I believe our mother intended for us
Make her proud.