How much better it would be
for this noble planet
if we cherished her like a lover?
Or loved her as a mother
who adored her child
and wiped the tears away
with a soft linen?
Or as a father
whose arms surrounding the child
are as steel beams supporting
the frame of the tallest building?
Who would not want these for himself
if he could articulate
what would heal
the dichotomy within?
Too few of us around
who love our home so fiercely
we would protect her vital organs.
The sun sometimes
is hidden from man
and the moon embarrassed
to see its light dimmed with shame.
When patches of earth split
from the shock of no rain and dust rises
and rolls across open land,
we wish then not to shake dust
from our boots but to greet
a sunrise in splendor.
Offer me this, the Earth Mother says,
that you will raise your arms
only to surround an Other in love.
Promise me this, again she says,
that the swords will be laid
at the foot of the evergreens, now
and a boot will never crush
an Other’s right to live.

And I will forever cherish your children.

August, 2013