Dear Earth, breakfast was astonishing.

Just ordinary porridge with cinnamon and toasted sunflower seeds.

Where did you grow my oats, Earth? You grew them in Cherrywood, New Zealand. They ate and drank with their toes from your dark soil, and your brother fed them with light.

Sunflower seeds, cute nuggets of goodness my Little Dog loves – born on flowers that dare you not to grin.

Cinnamon! The treasure of cassia trees, hiding under the outer bark, peeled off and curling into quills. How did we discover your larder of spices, beloved Earth? Is there more to find?

The stainless steel of my spoon was melted and mixed and poured in Vietnam. Who did that? Where are they now?

Thank you Earth for ordinary things. The things we sleep on, think with, snuggle under, lick, light and read. The things we gaze at until our whole beings are anointed with balm.

Thank you, gorgeous Earth, for porridge.

Love, Satya <3