An Open Letter From Planet Earth

Creation

I remember when I first met you. I could feel your first steps as you went walking around on the surface. Before long there were so many of you. You were thinking, feeling and creating. You are always creating. Creation is beautiful. In a way, I created you. At least, I like to think I contributed. I can remember the feeling when you formed homes, colonies, full races of people working together to create. I like to believe that you aren't a mistake. I like to believe that. I wish it were true. I've seen it all. I've seen how far you've come. How much you've learned. There have been ups and downs, of course, but each time you pull through. I always say it to myself in every way that I can, "The human race is beautiful."

I try to tell you how proud I am. I tell you in ways that I can. I paint the sky in bright colors. I decorate the ground in plants and flowers. I create mountains and fields. Forests and desserts. I fill the oceans with mysteries so that you never stop exploring. There are still so many things I want you to see. I try to show you every day. I try to show you that I'm proud. But you fill my skies with smog, the brilliant oranges and pinks I covered it in become dismal. You flatten the forests I've grown. You fill the oceans with plastic. How will I continue to watch what you can do if what you're doing is killing me? I don't know when your minds became something to fear. I don't know when your creations started to hurt. It's like I lost track of time. One minute things were fine, and the next this was the new normal. We all blinked and woke up in another reality, one where convince overshadowed beauty. It's hard because I love you.

Continents of ice are melting into the sea. Everything is dying, I can feel it. Every time a piece of plastic is thrown away. Because the truth is, it doesn't go away. It just goes away from you. You are always creating. Never stopping. I just didn't think your creations would be what kills mine. You are also a creation of mine. This will be your downfall, too. I wanted to see more. I wanted to see what else you could do. If you look around, every day, you will see the ways in which I love you. You will see the sky, the oceans, animals. You will feel the breeze, the wet touch of rain, the sounds that I sing in hushed tones to those who listen. You will be amazed. Why do you never show me the ways in which you love me? I am your home, after all. I wanted to see more. I wanted to be with you longer. I want to create, too. I am not ready to die. Please don't kill me.