As I sit on this planet inactively

 I stare at the beauty just passing me

Yet we kill mother so proactively

Can’t we all hear it, spoken softly, a plea.

I can feel it in the stones as I reach

To earth, as the sea slowly carves the beach

Problem is do I practice as I preach?

Without us, life goes on, were here to leach.

Even if we look to the future with

An eye on the past, we will never learn.

You can hear her talk, its not even myth

Listen to it, our home, our earth, her yearn.

Pleading to let her rest peacefully

“Please don’t carry away each piece of me”