Welcome to Planet Earth,

where books written by dead men

tell the living how to live.

Where children who do not know how to live

teach their children how to live.

Where children pray for miracles

using minds that are made of miracles

with clasped hands that are made of miracles.

Where children wander in search of God

upon feet that are made of God

looking with eyes that are made of God.

Where giant-brained monsters swim the seas

and we fill their bellies with plastic

while searching the stars for aliens.

Where poison blackens the air and the water

because we all need jobs to stay alive.

Where we can’t stop dropping bombs on children

because it’s somebody’s job to make those bombs.

Where thunderous beauty is overlooked

and paved over with a parking lot

for a shop that helps women feel beautiful.

Welcome to Planet Earth,

full of elephant tears and whale bones,

of metal beasts and flesh machines,

of forest graveyards and bulldozed dreams,

of vagrant witches and shopping cart saints,

of sprouting seeds and unrecognized potential,

of unanswered questions and pregnant suspense.

Welcome to Planet Earth,

where we haven’t quite yet figured out

that we are home.

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