Letter to Mother Nature by Wayne Bowerman

where do i begin? never felt like we were friends
and then religion taught me to hate you:
“look at those pagans beneath the constellations
demonic stations, only jesus saves you
she’s just a bitch with an ironclad grip, fleshy fists
she’ll grab your soul and cage you”
awkward kid with backwards lid, a fat wordsmith
so of course i longed to escape you
with ammunition from a tradition or superstition
docetic, domestic jesus call it gospel
reading those who wrote in paul or moses’ name
dimly through lens of plato and aristotle
with half truths abounding it was easy to believe
we were fairly representing the apostle
pitting flesh and spirit we understood that we’ve
got to escape, and can’t escape being docile
so we took to militancy with surprising resiliency
suing teachers dismissing finds of fossils
extremist took drastic measures against doctors
while children died from swollen tonsils
were they afraid you’d woo us with your beauty
when they started questioning your years?
maybe if we believe you’re younger than you look
we’ll stay gridlocked in all these fears
question your wisdom and integrity and our ability
to read the signs that you give us
feeling filthy, i’m just as guilty of such propagation
now i’m praying dear god forgive us
trying my best to resist the ever present temptation
to pit one mother against another
the church is still my station despite all this vexation
and so i hope she knows i still love her
i just want to pay the respect that’s long overdue you
’cause in both your waters i find life
the modus operandi is god’s hand working through you
despite suspicion of you that runs rife
confess but maybe don’t believe the word became flesh
and in flesh and blood there is life
sometimes i wonder why he didn’t just stop the 5th day
say it’s good and make you his wife