Mother's Problem Child

The sun luminates subtle textures
on a silent, spinning rock
with fire in its belly
'neath its cooled and crusted frock.

Moisture gathers; microbes glean,
life takes shape with no witness seen.
Infinite possibility in finite forms,
among the swirls of blues and green.

Vital signs; a world new born,
soon fills with wonders, diverse things,
unified in the instinctual dreams of these
temporal guests, in this borrowed home.

Pressed against; across its surface,
we live out all our days, bound
by gravity; spinning, though it seems
we're on firm ground.

We muster all her elements,
Earth Mother's problem child;
loved though we keep testing;
inheritance defiled, while
She longs for us to tend her
with a masterful, gentle style.