Murdering mother nature | A poem

the air is whiffing with flowers,
the gusts of wind shake
the trees blooming for the skies
and showering gardens in
pink and white and yellow petals,
starlings and warbles
and robins are singing too,
and bees awaken to sacrifice themselves
for the nectar blessing our tongues.
there is rebirth, rejoice,
renewal, resurrection amidst the havoc.
we are slowly but surely
murdering Mother Nature,
yet here she is, kindly reminding us
that we are going to be okay.

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