Letter to Earth
You are mother, home, life. We acknowledge your power, your beauty, your wildness and peace. With awe we remember the moments when truth broke in and held us still, bright, small. We reclaim the child in us who saw the detail and knew that it was fine, who watched and listened and felt the mystery. Your colours blaze and cool. Your sounds silence our clamour. We remember how to be, our place in the web, the rhythms and patterns beyond our busyness.
Your life is intense, patient, unexplained. The world we share sings tunes we cannot learn and paints truths for which we have no words. It is your gift to us and we will treasure it, restore it, live simply and thankfully as love requires of us. Or we will die – and what then?
Without us, you will heal in time. Our damage forgotten, you will roar and whisper on. The dance will not end, not yet. You will not mourn us. We will be unspoken in the silence that returns.
Our loss, not yours, and our destruction. But we have no right – to let go of small hands, to cut the cord and the roots, to tear the roof from the sky, to smother the future’s breath. We will remember who we are and what we owe. We will live again.
Written for Extinction Rebellion Earth Speaks and read on Waterloo Bridge.