We are too comfortable with personal and public policies
enslaving and then raping Earth for another fossil fuel fix,
too coldly pillaging forests and fertile vegetation
for anthro-lust of evermore political domesticity of Earth,
craving economic sold-out played-out commodification
of Earth’s soil,
too blind to our shared international nutritional cooperative WinWin Soul,
too addicted to poisoning Earth’s oceans and all waters as our toilets
unless piped into our cathedrals of spiritual elitism,
too short-sighted to notice an ecosystemic flush valve
smelling of depopulating climate revenge.
These do not feel like appropriate ways for folks
to say thanks to our Elders,
namaste for DNA’s regenerating heritage,
Great Creation Story,
or fuck you to future drowning and starving and wilting
too “you’re not welcome” and “not all lives matter”
to our own transcultural grandchildren,
nephews, nieces, cousins,
and their cousins, and their Elders,
back through anthro-time.
If you believe you have a more important personal or professional vocation
than to do your share to restore:
the soil where you live,
the family you have been given
to solve love’s karmic syllogistic riddles,
the water you drink
but also the Earth that you pee and eventually die into,
the political and economically cooperative free fresh air
we all need to breathe Yang in
and Yin out,
then you are probably over-invested
in overly-spiritualized non-rationalizations of empty hope,
soothing internal dissonance
about complicity in rape and pillage elite complacency,
LeftBrain anthro-supremacist BusinessAsUsual,
not so Allah Judeo-Christian loving
of our ReGenerative Creator Elder Stories
Perhaps we are under-invested
in love’s WinWin cooperative network opportunities,
racing too competitively to notice richer healthier potentialities
in polycultural dialogue
within ecologically polypathic dialects
and language of Time’s co-arising light
and dualdark absence of co-empathy.
So go ahead.
Hug a tree.
It won’t do much for the tree
but it’s good for your Earth-natured soul.
Plant an organically intended garden in your daily life development story
that might feed your next seven generations,
regenerate seeds of EarthTribe’s loving evolution.
Do something that shouts out our shared passion for life
and not your whimpering dispassions against death
as if you could eventually persuade yourself
that even you believe,
as you hope others might naively wish,
you could not live fully without bloating days of egocentrism.
Do something, anything, healthy for yourself
that could not possibly become pathological for someone else.
Line up your health and goodness,
your truths and beauties,
your faiths and reasons for being and becoming.
Find their mutually latticed regenerating square-rooting reflections.
Do not slam your identity’s door on the way out to work.
Leave your mind open on your way in to recreate.