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Maybe The Time Has Come


The world is dying.

The marbled blue and green mass of cells and gases

that has birthed so much life is dying.

Life that has bubbled into more life.

Life that flies and swims and slithers and walks.

Life that simply multiplies.

Life that contemplates it all.

The world must be so old.

She has surely aged.

For continents have split and shifted

like skin that stretches and sags, shrinks and wrinkles

with time and with weariness.

Surely she has aged, yet in her core she burns hot.

Her center

Her spirit

Her passion

Her being.

Much as ours is.

Call it what you wish.

Hers is the source of all.

Life.

It rages now, so maybe age has nothing to do with her current state.

Maybe she is angry.

Maybe she has tired of watching as her creations destroy themselves

destroy each other.

Maybe she's taken too much abuse.

Or maybe not.

Maybe she shoulders it all

as mothers do.

She carries on strongly

holding us all up.

Lovingly

providing us with warmth, food, drink.

As we take more than she can give

More than our share.

She smiles sadly with love for her creations.

But, she can't stop the destructive path we've chosen.

Maybe she thinks it's her fault.

Maybe she feels great regret.

She must burst with it.

Her sadness echoes in eruptions.

Her moments of grief

Her attempts to steer us the right way

sting harshly.

There is no love without discipline.

She leaves her surface parched and burning.

Taking away her fruits.

She floods her seeds before they can even sow

Rotting out her crops.

Desperate, fearful attempts to slow our course for our own sake, not hers.

Or maybe it's not emotion at all.

It is very possible she's sick.

Of ill health.

Cancered

Poisoned

Diseased

And left for her own survival

or not.

Left by her own creations to slowly wilt

or to adapt and survive.

Her fever burns hot

Her chills shake the ground.

Our cities fall.

And whether she adapts or her time has come, we will be the casualties.

Before new life can spring forth, all will be wiped clean.

The Earth is older than thought.

The world is dying.

Her creations remain selfish and blind.

 

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