Rooted in Kindness: A Poem for the Green and the Gentle

Rooted in Kindness

I don’t need steak to feel alive,

A carrot crunch gives me the drive.

Broccoli trees, like mini woods,

Are power-packed with leafy goods.

Spinach talks in iron tones,

Tomatoes blush like shy gemstones.

Cabbage layers its quiet pride,

While beans just line up side by side.

Dear plants, you grow in silent grace,

You never scream, you hold your space.

You soak the sun, you sip the rain,

You heal the heart, you calm the brain.

Animals too, oh gentle crew,

The cow that looks, the pup that knew.

The pig that plays, the sheep that chills,

The birds that sing on windowsills.

They don’t wear shoes or drive a car,

But somehow they know who we are.

Their eyes don't lie, their hearts don’t fake—

Yet we decide what lives we take?

A dog will sit through storms for you,

A cow will cry when it loses too.

But we ignore the silent screams,

For fleeting meals and protein dreams.

Let’s toast with soup and veggie pies,

And learn to see through kinder eyes.

Let’s plant a seed, not just a tree—

But grow a world where all lives be.

You say “they’re just,” I say “they feel,”

You call it food, I call it real.

A feathered friend, a leafy kin—

It’s time to grow some love within.

So next time when your plate feels bare,

Try kindness topped with extra care.

For every bite, and life you spare—

You grow a world that's more aware.