If I could only accept the quietus of my children
As I am left to breath on
If I could only stand up to the tempest,
Holding on to my roots
Watch my clan fall.
If only I could be the epitome of resilience
When they sever me,
Or, char my limbs-
Not frail, numb from emotive pangs
If I could crumble into nothingness, leaving
The true king of all kings
In your beautiful kingdom
I’d then be, Gaia!
If only to be the green wreath
On your chest.
I am the bartender at Dversepoets on Tuesday’s poetics. Please join to read some wonderful poetry. Bar opens at 3 PM EST. Photography: Reetam Banerjee.