EARTH MOTHER

Dear Earth Mother,

I look out into the world and see long stretches of asphalt, slick with oil. I witness the gathering of debris beneath overpasses and tangled in reed and willow scattered over river banks. Great swaths of land are torn asunder to make way for slabs and walls of concrete. The streams and rivers carry and pour death and decay into your oceans. Extinction of the wild beast and creatures of the sea and sky are joined by ranks of spider, beetle, and bee.

I am sorry for my part.

So, I step out into the world and I survey the scorched hills and valleys and know that there is life just below the scales and decay. I set myself to debridement until your burnt flesh has been removed, revealing the clean and healthy.

And when the sun sets in the west I wash away the dryness with cool refreshing water drawn from the depths of caverns protected by towering granite mountains. And in the resurrected soil I plant seeds to sprout and spring up, reaching towards the newly risen sun of a new day. I seed the ladybug and mantis among the flowers, shrubs, and trees.

And then I go to the work of restoring and building homes for the bee and grow thistle and milkweed for the butterfly. As I prune the hibiscus, sage, lavender, and honeysuckle I remember to leave the blossoms for the hummingbird and her offspring seeking the nectar of life.

I look out into the world again and see new life springing up in spite of the industry of man. I look out into the world again and hope to see the release of something new.

With great sorrow and hopeful optimism,

Your Earth Child