Mother Earth Calls The Samaritans

I can’t go on. I’m in floods of tears for days, weeks, months, years. My insides are quaking.

Oh, that sounds exhausting.

I feel drained with all this bloody rain! I’ve sent warnings but …my family, I fear they’ve forgotten my existence or even how to listen.

Have you spoken to them about your feelings?

We used to communicate, share moments of beauty, but that was a long time ago. Now they shut themselves away, don’t what to say to each other, feeding their addictions with stories of fiction. I’m not sure who will die first, but really, I can’t leave them behind, I have to take them with me. I speak to the authorities, I tell them their poisoning me, they think I’m just a crazy old woman. In fact, I am the oldest being they’ve ever met and still not even a hint of respect. I count the grains of sand falling each day, but they carry on as if this is normality. I scream, ‘It’s the end of the fucking world. Wake up! Wake up or we’re fucked!’ I kick up a storm, a gale, a tornado but they don’t give a damn which way the wind blows.

Do you have any friends who understand you?

There are a few who listen…to the stillness of the pines, a heart open wide, a smile from a child, a lily on a loch, a dream long forgot, a song on the street, strangers who meet who care to share a thought or plant a seed, seeking the day, a friendly face, willing to embrace the quiver of a note piercing the earth with the wisdom of truth.