Mother Earth

1. There are equivalencies, but let’s not get carried away, since we only imagine her willing consent, in a sense. Let her do what she does best, which is to let things rot, to let seeds sprout and roots grow. She’s not all sunshine and gentle breezes, but fierce wind and freezing ice, volcanoes, floods, and forest fires. There are gods that symbolize both sides. Let’s not get simplistic and just choose one. I’ll never be as free, never unreservedly feel as free as beetles eating a tree’s cambium layer, or the way coyote love rabbits, birds, and insects, or as robins drunk on pyracantha berries. They say trees communicate by their roots, so why shouldn’t they feel good when it rains? Surely sharks feel good when they eat fish, and grizzly bears feel good just being alive. Mankind has a place in this, which he’s abused. We’ve been out of control like rabbits where there aren’t enough coyotes. Sure, earth nurtures us, too, but let’s call that malicious neglect. 2. I’m not just a cynic; I love our earth. I love its places, its fruits, its animals. I love its mountains, rivers, and valleys. I love lakes and oceans, hills and shores. I love its sunrises and sunsets. All of it, active and passive, is beautiful to me, like cliffs above a shore, like fog over water, like eucalyptus rustling in a light wind, like red raspberries hanging among leaves, like maple trees turning a thousand colors. 3. When will we learn? When will we listen? When will we read our poets meaningfully? When will oppression cease to be rewarding? When will we treat everything as our children, as our betters, or at least as our equals? Why not find as much pleasure in other lives as we find in our lovers, as I mean when it’s good. 4. Yes, humans are glorious; we should be proud. It seems we would be even more glorious if we didn’t foul our own nests, if we didn’t waste our days with hatred, or harm others, or fail to help them. Both the familiar and the sacred have good things to teach us.