a letter to Mother Earth
I wrote this today for an art call:
You are such a good friend. In fact, I think you are one of my best friends. You always make me smile. You are magical. You are able to grow things and make the seasons change and provide me with wonder and awe.
Remember that one time last spring when we were walking around the lake by the house and you pointed out the view as the sunlight danced over the water? We laughed at the geese splashing one another. They showed off their long necks in various poses. You told me it was a mating dance. I think you were right.
Do you remember when we were camping on that small island two summers ago and that giant storm came up? The wind blew and the thunder was so loud. We huddled in our tent, hoping the trees would stay standing. I was scared. I think you were mad at me. Were you?
I know that one day was really hard when you discovered how all the big trees across from the house were cut down. I felt bad about it, too.
I guess I don’t blame you for being angry and I want to tell you that I’m sorry. I respect you so much and the power you have to give life. I know that you feel taken advantaged of. All of your hard work is slowly getting destroyed and the beauty that you’ve created is disappearing; the animals, the plants, the air, the water.
Earth, I promise to be a better friend and take better care of you, as you do for me. I hope we can talk about this some more.