I believe that the poem you wrote is about time.


Cold,
in the embrace of darkness
do I spin
surrounded by distant brothers
and cousins.

I am the mother of thousands.
Of millions.
I am their warmth, their breath,
I give them their life
and reclaim it with death.

Calm and kind is my default
but my temper
knows no bounds.
Especially when my children
desecrate my holy grounds.

My life I share with you
and you break me.

My body I share with you
and you scar me.

My blessing I give to you
and you repay me
by making me ill with smoke,
by dirtying my waters with oil
'till I choke.

I am the Mother
who has lost your respect.

So who are you
to ask for my kindness
any longer?