Serve or Impede?

Earth…

Is not ours to conquer,

but to cradle,

a sleeping child in our arms,

its breath the wind,

its tears the rivers we dam and drink.

Water…

The first whisper of life,

moves through us like memory,

clear,

persistent,

carving valleys in our bones.

caves of protection in our hearts,

webs of thought in our brains.

We are vessels, not owners.

Soil…

Tread as if the gtound remembers every footfall,

not just the weight of your body,

but the gravity of your thoughts.

Even silence leaves a print.

Flowers…

Whether coaxed from backyard soil or flung wild on alpine cliffs,

all are sermons in color

there to be served with our willingness

to kneel before beauty without needing to possess it.

Air…

That which we breathe is a shared inheritance,

a temple of invisible grace.

Pollute it, and we desecrate our own prayers.

The Endangered…

Feathered,

furred,

scaled,

ask us not for pity,

only space to thrive again in forests unchoked by greed,

where our adoption of service

is to remember the wild within ourselves.

Humans…

We the flawed,

fractured,

often crubling,

all deserve respect not for our perfection,

but for our potential.

Even the self-centered have options,

but choose to orbit a sun of longing,

even as others are learning to be less ecliptic,

smiling in the gift of light.

Children…

Teach them early

that the ground is not just beneath them,

but within them.

Let their existence kiss the earth with reverence,

and their minds grow like roots seeking not just answers,

but better questions.

To all…

There are laws, etched not just in books but in the marrow of justice,

asking us to serve our fellow man with encouragement,

not exile for being different.

To uplift is to honor the architecture of compassion,

Instinctively knowing to refuse this service

Is to risk finding themselves in prisons of brick

or prisons of guilt,

that man-made hell where mirrors crack and every reflection asks,

“Why did you not serve?”

Lest we forget…

The earth is both sanctuary and mirror,

Time’s preamble of what might be creation’s next chapter