Who Is Our Mother?

• Skye Ford, Grade 12
• Poetry
• 2021

Amid the storm, my blood pauses, and I am alone a soul,
Body is merely feature to the scene.
Arms suspended, and receiving nature's gift,
I repent my ill judgements.
She does is not all bland as brown hills,
Rather she is diverse, as is humanity.
She is eternally an anchor,
Amid seas of instability,
Without her, I am a body unliving.
But now, another euphoric raindrop,
And my soul will spill over.
“My fierce behaviors mold men,” she says,
“But my behavior is that of woman.”
Mother Nature, our shared mother.