I am the Mother
Does it hurt that we take away the plants you've grown, season after season? Pull ploughs through you every year, leaving nothing to just live for more than a few months? Use you this way?
"Ha! No, not like this. Of course not. I am the Mother. I feed, I provide. Oh the big stuff hurts; I find it hard to recover and sometimes I don't. I have wounds. But smaller fields of plants that feed you and other animals - that's not so different from what I've always been. As long as you treat me with love and respect.
Here, along the edges where you live, you see me both farmed and wild and those states are not so dissimilar. In both I give shelter and food. Tell me, where do you feel most nurtured and nourished by me?"
Well my instant reaction would be, 'in the woods' but actually I also love the crop fields. I love the paths left by the tractor wheels, the views over open land across the county, the smell of turned earth, the sea of grain moving in a breeze, the straw bales at the end of summer, the fossils thrown up by the ploughs.
"So you love me when I work and when I rest. When I make money for humans and when I just let life live. Is the value of one diminished by the other? Is there not beauty and worth in both?
Listen. Do no harm. Do what your soul must do. Do it honestly, to nurture and nourish, and without exploitation. Work and rest and be ashamed of neither.
I am the Mother. I love you anyway."