Fact: The US has lost at least 29.7 million acres of land to forest fires in the last 20 years. If the Earth could speak to us in a language we understand, what would it say? Would it applaud our deeds or curse us for being such reckless hosts?

Source: Unsplash by Markus Spiske

I know you not anymore

You once were my child

I fed you and you built your home

Out of my bane

But you scarred me

Left me withering under a spider’s web

My spirit a flickering image of my past self

You turned blind

Can’t see the ocean rising with my tears

Can’t see the scars you create

When you kill what I bear

You turned greedy

Wanting more and more every single time

So you set me on fire

And replace with glass and concrete and stone

I know you not anymore

A child forgets their roots

So forgive dear love

 When my tears well up and drown

Your houses and hospitals and roads

Forgive me sweet child

When I fail to yield your seeds

When I can’t control the heat

That merely scalps you

It’s not a magical feeling

When you turn me into a dump bin

Cut and burn my trees

Poach my living biodiversity drain my wetlands to specks

Now I have to fight back

With love dipped oscillations.


Esther Lucy Nalubega