I once believed
the Earth needed saving.
My primitive monkey mind
thought our Mother
delicate as dewy petals
wilting before the sun,
fragile as tender shoots
withering after our footsteps.

But Pachamama is no tender blossom.
She is a Bad Bitch.
She is clashing tectonic plates
towering glaciers
roiling tidal waves
and raging wildfires.
She is explosive volcanoes
that reshape landscapes
and ferocious hurricanes
that dictate coastlines.

Gaia has circled a star
4.5 billion times.
She’s reversed her poles
in 200 centuries.
She’s survived
five mass extinctions:
catastrophic warming
advancing ice
looming clouds of ash
deadly algae blooms
and comet crash.
She is a lizard planet
ruled by dinosaurs
for 150 million years
while we descended from trees
mere moments ago.

Puny monkey brain!
The arrogance to think
this mighty Planet
requires our rescue.
She is no damsel in distress
swooning for a Savior.
She doesn’t need
to save her.
She doesn’t need us
at all.

The ones who need saving
are US.

We must
learn our proper place
and earn our keep,
for if we wage war with Tonantzín
we will lose.

This Mother loves us but knows her worth.
This Mother gives but needs gifts in return.
This Mother tolerates no spoiled brats.
This Mother hits abusive partners back.
This Mother will leave us to save herself.
This Mother always has someone else.

This Mother is no naïve girl.
This Mother is a Grown-Ass Woman.
As such
we mistreat her at our peril
and respect her to mutual benefit.

The choice is ours,
we choose our fate.
This Mother will be just fine
either way.

© S. Rinderle, June 2023

image: https://oldworldgods.com