Hear our pleas,
See our worries,
We fear your continued coming.
Ground is full.
Sky, stop this force-feeding.
Wind, help please.
Water, our friend, 
You're gushing to our feet.
We fear your passage is full
But to each their own,
Mother Earth made sure.
Wait, is that it?
Mother is sore?
We aren't sinners here.
In our contemplations,
You're gushing to our knees.
The sinners are uphill.
Wait, is that it?
We let them be?
They pillage, crater, raze, and raise what need not be.
We feel bad, we shake our heads, we share our concerns, 
then...                   then...                  then... <...

Please subscribe to keep reading.