By Likyabeni Kikon
My home stands upon this beautiful blue planet,
Where all life is selflessly nurtured.
You gave us more than we ever needed,
So we could thrive and evolve in time.
But little did you, kind Mother Earth,
Know the children you raised with care
Would grow ungrateful and blind with greed—
Squeezing dry your generous gifts,
Chasing gain with no regard for loss.
God blessed mankind with wisdom,
To rise above, to seek and shape,
To dream, invent, and chase the stars—
But we chose power over purpose,
And turned our backs on the cost.
Dear Mother Earth, do you ever regret
The kindness and shelter you gave us?
Do you weep for the wounds we carved
Into the lungs and limbs of your being?
The air—no longer fresh to breathe.
The rain—tainted. The rivers—choked.
The land—barren, cracked, and gasping,
All consequences of our tyranny—
The price of blind consumption.
Who is to blame for this destruction?
God, who gifted us wisdom?
You, for your endless kindness?
Or us—foolish, thankless, and lost—
Led astray by our own desires?
Sometimes I wonder—
If we had remained as pagans,
Would we have worshipped you with reverence?
Would our gratitude have curbed our greed,
And slowed this spiral of decay?
Yet you remain patient, Mother Earth.
If you were human,
Perhaps we’d all be doomed by now.
But even you lose temper—
You growl in storms and fire,
In floods and quakes and raging seas—
Each one a warning,
A wake-up call for the careless.
So, dear Mother Earth, calm your rage,
For not all your children are lost.
Some hearts have awakened—
They see the doom that looms,
And they act—though small in number—
Like drops falling into the deep.
Salute to the wise and gentle souls
Who loved you before you faded,
Who planted trees, fought for forests,
Spoke for rivers, stood for silence—
And lit a path for others to follow.
To all your mindful children,
Let us pause and truly reflect.
Let us heal what we still can,
Before it’s too late to regret.
Though you may never fully regain
The brilliance of your former self,
Let us contribute in our small ways,
In daily choices and mindful steps,
To slow the nearing ruin.
Dear Mother Earth, grace us still—
As we toil to undo the damage.
We may never restore what once was whole,
But a mended world still holds hope.
It is not beyond saving—
And neither are we.