Helga Davis

Because of course you know that war abounds, and that borders are something that people will kill and die for.

While up here there might be the small and distant rucking of land that tells of a mountain range, and there might be a vein that suggests a great river, but that's where it ends.

There's no wall or barrier.

No tribes, no war or corruption or particular cause for fear.

Before long, for all of them, a desire takes hold.

It's the desire, no, the need, fueled by fervor to protect this huge yet tiny earth.

This thing of such miraculous and bizarre loveliness.

This thing that is, given the poor choice of alternatives, so unmistakably home.

An unbounded place, a suspended jewel so shockingly bright.

Can humans not find peace with one another?

With the Earth?

It's not a fond wish, but a fretful demand.

Can we not stop tyrannizing and destroying and ransacking and squandering this one thing on which our lives depend?

Yet they hear the news and they've lived their lives and their hope does not make them naive.

So what do they do?

What action to take?

And what use are words?

They're humans with a godly view, and that's the blessing and also the curse.