MOTHER EARTH
(A Monologue)
By
D. M. Larson
Copyright (c) 1989
All Rights Reserved
(Lights come up on an empty stage. A woman, old
and weak, walks slowly on stage and moves toward
C. Her hair is unkempt, and her clothes are baggy
and worn. She draws her clothes closely about her
as if she is cold, but it does not comfort her,
for she still shakes)
MOTHER
(Smiles faintly)
In the beginning, my children loved me. They truly did.
(Reaches C and stops. Happily looks before her,
using her hands to help describe what she says)
They would laugh and play, calling me joyously to join them in their fun;
never forgetting me, never forgetting I'm the only one.
(Hugs herself, smiles)
We were all so happy, so free.
(Folds her hands before her)
They asked for only what I could give them when they were young, and I
asked for little in return.
(Sadly)
Perhaps, too little.
(Pause)
Then, as they grew older, they changed. They no longer seemed happy
with their lives and began searching for more, wanting something else
that I couldn't offer them. Nothing seemed good enough anymore. No
longer did they cry out to me as they used to, wanting me to play their
simple, gentle games.
(Slight pause)
It was almost as if I were being ignored.
(Pause)
Did I neglect them? Did I do something to make them turn away?
(Kneels sadly)
One dark night, when I had looked away in distress, they lost their
innocence. A new path was found and they left the old ways behind. No
more could I hold them and whisper lovingly into their ears. Those days
were lost, never to be found again. I became a burden to them. I tried to
change, I tried to give them what they wanted, but I guess I didn't
understand. They no longer wanted what I had to offer them. They
wanted more. So, they came back and took from within me, scarring me
deeply, never letting my wounds heal.
(Lays a hand over her heart)
But, with youthful blindness, they never saw my pain. They just kept
taking and taking.
(She supports herself with both hands now)
I'm so weak, now...
(Closes her eyes a moment)
I have little more to give. But, still they hurt me.
(Pause. A tear. Cries out)
I cry out in great sorrow, but I'm not heard!
(Becomes almost frantic)
I plead with my children...Please, stop all this pain!
(Holds out hands, pleading)
Don't you love your mother anymore? Do you want to see her die?!
(Pause. Hand down for support. Gentle and sad)
I gave you, my children, a tree, you chopped it down.
(Looks out to audience for first time)
I gave you a river, but you defiled it. I gave you the sky, but you
blackened it with smoke from your never ceasing fires. Will nothing
make you love me, again? I have given you the world, but you continue
to destroy it.
(Pause. Softly, as if it were her final breath)
Have you forgotten your Mother Earth?
(She bows her head in defeat and weeps. Lights
fade to black)
END OF MONOLOGUE