Love Letter to the World

Pristine jungle, Atlantic Forest, Brazil © WWF - Netherlands

Love Letter to the World

By Frank X Walker

I love you world.

Love your seven different faces.

Love your healing waters

wide and deep.

Love the thing you have

with the sun and moon

and what it teaches us

about companionship,

about change,

about revolution.

Love the mirror at your navel,

how it shows off your hemispheres,

illustrating important lessons

about balance,

about reflection,

about centering ourselves.

Love how much like little worlds

we are. How our earthquake

is your shiver, your sneeze a tsunami,

an avalanche, a mudslide.

When you have hot flashes

we call it drought.

You once covered your whole body

with ice to cool a fever.

When you weep, daily,

over our continued ignorance,

our epic failures and petty squabbles

—our every transgression,

your waters

break and we are born again.

Love your outreach, our mutual attraction,

your gravitational pull.

For every treasure we steal

from your womb

you send us hail and thunderstorms.

When we invent poisons and no antidotes

and build monuments to ourselves

you send tornadoes and hurricanes

to remind us of how small we truly are.

And yet, every day you continue to humble,

inspire, and move us to tears

with your natural beauty.

Our own efforts to mimic your vistas

are what we dare call art and dance,

music and poetry,

architecture and language,

and love.

It is the only thing we have ever gotten right.

We can't pass the course on humanity

if we keep failing the lessons

on harmony

and until we unlearn fear and hate.

Thank you, world, for this

open-book exam before us,

for still believing

we are worthy of your love

We who love you black alredy know

that everything we do to you

we also do to ourselves.