It is the edifice of creation

The firmament of foundation

Our good, our ground, our gravitation

Giving us mineral, soil, plant and seed

To make our home, sustaining every generation

The Earth was born of sun and will keep its soul

Until the sun’s fire reclaims it, swallows it whole

It shields, heals, feeds us; is both our food and bowl

It is every rock, tree, river, and reed

We call it “Mother” for, in our lives, that is its role

Under our feet, Earth is the dirt, fossils and stones

It holds us up in life; in death, it hosts our bones

It has many strata, histories, caverns, and zones

Men toil for its metals and riches to quell their greed

Rare are the earths to fashion his ego or his phones

But the Earth is alive, a survivor in her own right

She doesn’t care about our desires or piteous plight

We can do what we dare, but it’s her story to write

She can give all or take away what we need

It’s her game – we are but players – win or lose, her rules, our fight.