You travel through space and time and in a moment of the flickering eye; you are in a place you have never been. Another blink and the earth is just as it was yet more of what it is, my earth, my gold touched orb that is filled with wonders upon wonders whose very guts spill with riches.
Have you seen with spiritual eyes? Do you know the riches of colors, the rich decay of fertile soils, the feel of the rich soil under your feet, pressed between fingers, raw and willing? From where do you garner this, the soil of life, which holds any seed, and willing root? You flicker here then there with the static of life, yet what holds have you relinquished? Can a tree bear fruit without its roots? Can the sun hold forth its warmth without a willing earth?
Have you breathed with pleasure the soil made wet and soft with the falling of my rains? Think on this, my earth. Think of the many ways she serves, to nourish and to hold you. Lie upon a field and feel the arms of her steady love, the power of life beneath, to know that somewhere on the other side, another is lying upon a field. Do you not know one another, brothers, sisters, on the field of life? If you listen with spiritual ears, you will discern one another’s beating heart, for all sounds, all music, all voices, are heard and held by my earth.