Dear Earth, a confession of unfaithfulness.On 28th January 2020 by Satya
Sweet Earth, this is a confession. When I write these love letters to you, I am unfaithful. A part of me is devoted to you, and another part is greedy for the praise I will receive for what I write.
I can feel kindly towards this greedy part. It is trying to receive love in the only way it knows – through performing, through manipulating, through flattery. It believes that, if I stop putting my writing into the world, I will be instantly forgotten. It believes that I am only as valuable as my last book. It believes that love depends on usefulness.
I would like to learn from your common primroses, lovely Earth. They grow in shady corners, pastel yellow with yolky splashes at their centres. They don’t agitate their leaves or crane their blossoms to seek attention. Sometimes their ordinary beauty is noticed, and sometimes it isn’t – it’s all the same to them. They soak up the sun and feel the water running up through their xylem. Is it foolish to imagine that they are happy?
When the praise-greedy part settles down, dear Earth, I am happy. I linger over describing your dangling catkins, your flint walls, your hazy blue horizon. I enjoy the taste of words as I roll them around in my mouth. I know that everything I have is yours, borrowed.
Dear Earth, let me be a primrose.
Love, Satya <3