Nature vs. Nature

Day Twenty-Eight: I used an idea from one of the featured blogs (this one) to use a wordle for inspiration. Here's what I picked:

The Mother has offered us a cure,
something tried and certain
to keep us from outdoing ourselves.
"On the ninth day," she rumbles,
"time itself will unwind and be
as a snake in the grass - the animal
waiting at the warming threshold
of your safe place - slight as a sigh."
For this danger we arm ourselves,
but no swords or arrows - a task,
a thing to keep our minds busy,
a way to saturate the brain with
the most intimate of all nonsense.
It is a bandage for the skeptical
and, as always, they rip it off;
the might of paranoia has long been
the choicest side dish, served raw.
The Mother dies a slow death,
her last breath a crumbling mountain
and the dusty bellow of control
as it is relinquished to the bold.
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Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
Andrew Bird, Imitosis