Oh hear me Earth of Old,
Hear my words in the wind,
In the waters around the world ringed,
Hear my song in the leaves,
Underbrush and above the trees.
Salvation comes in stories yet told.
Oh Earth remember your conception,
When Creation lay flawless and pure,
In your beauty daintily secure,
But such things are transitory
Like man’s segregated territory.
Salvation comes in radical perception.
My main character is “savior” of the Earth – the planet not the people. How will that affect his interaction with mankind? Darn I feel a dark twist to my airy-fairy fantasy novel. Maybe I’ll just write two versions…