Drink now of their blood O’ Mother
I give to you my sons and daughters.
Drink now of their blood O’ Mother, and release their souls.
Their eyes have seen too much; stung by time and fear.
So drink now Mother, replenish thy soft meadows so green, so sweet.
Grow tall your trees for it is by them and the coming wind, their whispers I hear.
You catch them when they fall Mother, you try to be gentle; this I’ve seen.
I feel your pain O’ Mother when they come swift on black clouds and take them away.
Yet I also know your patience Mother, and I know that you shall embrace them another day.
Yet a new day comes disguised in lovely blue.
Silence falls from the sky and all shall pay their due.
Too much blood to drink Mother, too much to reclaim.
Your fields once green, now rushing rivers of red.
No one left Mother to bury the dead,
and they are more than you alone can consume.
J. Allen Wilson © 9/19/201?