do you see the red stamps
underneath your own
on that screen?
dismembered mountains
pay the cost
to save the trees.what about the wasteland you
leave behind?
a place called home.
we destroy others to destroy
our own: to crash cars
because we smudge our
fingerprint stamps on screens
while driving.
i long to be just as the earth,
knowing words are merely what people say.
i’ve suffered through the pain of birth
only from her to be torn away.my entire life i’ve yearned
to be near to her beating heart,
with time, with patience i have learned
an open mind is where it starts.it seems to us a mystery–
how can we hear our mother talk?
don’t rush through life in such hurry;
she speaks in footsteps as you walk.all she humbly asks of us:
to look at every living thing,
to see the beauty and genius
and feel the joy to her they bring.
If we are able to– with a clear conscience– call this Earth our mother while simultaneously abusing, destroying, and killing her, I am truly horrified to imagine how people must treat their earthly mothers.
every day we walk on
your back.
we stick needles in
your spine and fill
your lungs with our smoke.
we look you in the eye while
we close our hands around your neck.
every day you
love us, cleaning our spills
to cradle us again.
we are fleas, but
you love us even when we bite.
you keep trying to grow.
we keep trying to
cut you down.
Silenticel 