Yes, I am soil,
I live beneath your feet,
Feeding seeds that will keep you fit.
I am the womb that births your worth
After you have impregnated me with your toil.
I am the depth from which every growth springs forth.
I am the nitrogen that nourishes the roots of fruits you enjoy.
I am the worm that wriggles, giving the dead life again.
I am the water that carries nutrients you find in your food.
I am the bacteria that make your crops rise for good.
I am a rock that anchors your sustenance, not a toy to annoy.
I am a book that carries the tales of your existence, a treasure not to stain.
See, I am not a dumping site to litter and spoil.
Just like you, I need to be covered against floods and storms.
I need to be healed and cared for your land to bloom.
Don’t let your greed overexploit or burn me for you’d waste your toil.
Just as a mother needs to eat to feed the baby,
I too must be fed to feed you or else your life finds its doom.
Let protecting me become your hobby.
