Dear Earth, I want to enjoy you

I want to enjoy you while I still can.

That can be difficult when my head fills up with a tangle of plotting and self-recrimination and hopelessness and oughts.

I forget to gather flowers from the garden and make posies for my little vases. I forget to pluck a sweet blueberry or two on the way past the bush. I forget to bathe my tired eyes in the blue balm of your skies.

It would be a shame not to love you as you are today. Yes, there are hurricanes happening. Yes, your ice is melting. Yes, we need to get together and work hard to help you.

And right now, before my first appointment of the day, I have twenty minutes of grace. I can listen to the strimmer a few gardens away and trust that someone is taking care of something. I can taste my tea. I can notice the light falling on that turquoise length of sari draped across my bookshelf, and enjoy the gold threads glittering like mini suns.

You remind me to delight in your beauty, Dear Earth, whenever I turn towards you. You remind me that this nourishment is what keeps me going.

Thank you, Earth, for your lapis lazuli and your jewelled streams. Thank you for your dark earth with earthworms threaded through. Thank you even for death, for the bright blood of prey and for the inevitability of decay, without which there would be no renewal.

Thank you, Dear Earth. As I bow down to you, your soft rain kisses the back of my neck.

Love, Satya <3