THE MOTHER'S LAMENT

(Mother Earth, heavy with sorrow, cries out to the Creator)

O Mighty One, O hand divine,

Why do my children weep and pine?

My trees once danced, my rivers sung,

Now silence reigns where life once clung.

The mountain aches, its bones now bare,

Once proud and tall, now gasps for air.

The tree that shaded weary souls,

Now shattered lies in lifeless shoals.

And man—my brightest, fairest child,

Once gentle, now so fierce and wild.

He carves my peaks, he burns my skin,

Yet in his eyes, I see regret within.

Tell me, Maker, is this fate?

Must they all perish at this rate?

Will forests fall, will mountains fade?

Will man be lost in greed he made?

(The Creator, with a voice like the wind and stars, answers)

O Mother dear, my steadfast heart,

You cradle life, you play your part.

Your sorrow weighs, your wounds run deep,

Yet hope still stirs beneath your keep.

The mountain breaks, but in the dust,

New paths shall form, new lands will trust.

The tree may fall, yet roots remain,

To rise again in sun and rain.

And man—ah, man—he stumbles so,

Yet light within him still does glow.

His hands that scar, his mind that strays,

Can also heal, can learn new ways.

(Mother Earth, pleading for hope)

But Maker, I have heard their cries,

The mountain fears, the forest sighs.

The human weeps with guilt so great,

Yet will he change before too late?

Will he still chase the fleeting prize,

Or mend the wounds, or clear his eyes?

I gave him all, my soil, my seas,

Yet now I kneel and beg him, please.

(The Creator, embracing Earth’s pain, reassures her)

The tides shall turn, the seasons shift,

And even sorrow brings a gift.

Man’s heart still beats with love and light,

Though some forget, they’ll find what’s right.

For every hand that rips apart,

Another builds with love at heart.

For every fire that burns a tree,

A seed still waits to break, be free.

So trust, O Mother, hold your ground,

Your love still echoes, still resounds.

Though shadows fall, though tempests rage,

Hope still writes upon the page.

(Mother Earth, finding strength in the Creator’s words)

Then I shall wait, I shall endure,

With faith that love will yet be pure.

The mountain’s cry, the forest’s pain,

Shall find their voice, shall rise again.

And man, my child—though lost, confused,

Shall one day walk the path he bruised.

For in his soul, the dawn still gleams,

And I shall wait to see his dreams.