An Apology Letter To Mother Earth

mother earth

The simple phrase of “I’m sorry” isn’t just enough.

Dear Mother Earth,

Oh mother earth, your beauty remains a wonder by divine design. Your life forms evolve and my love for you is absolute. You have provided us with food, shelter, air, water, resources and most importantly, love. For millions of years you have unconditionally provided for mankind and the animals we share this planet with, and you never truly ask for anything in return but care and love. You truly are the mother of the world. You support all races, religions, genders, ages and all walks of life. You love unconditionally and provide for us always. Not just the things we need to survive, but the very things that make life worth living. I come forward to say “I’m sorry.” I understand sorry cannot undo what has been done, but I am sure that it can help ease the pain and tension of the aftermath.There is a lot to be sorry for.

I am sorry that many people do not understand you. They call you a disaster but man was the first ever encroacher, we evaded your privacy, we build our great city on your chest; along fault line and near the cracks in the Earth’s crust yet we don’t expect to exasperate you. When you quake shifting and swirling around in discomfort, we call you names that are not befitting; typhoon, tsunami, cyclone, earthquake, monsoon etc. Within minutes of any major fidgety movement you make, shock-waves can twist the landscape, flatten buildings and wipe out entire neighbourhoods but man never learns her lesson. Yet we want to live in countries bordered by great walls away from each other. Amassing more lands we were not supposed to live in, lands that were not meant for us. A mother must have her privacy. Even human mothers have their private parts. Their children do not know what comes from it and even what it emits.

I am sorry that many people do not see our planet this way. That many people see the wonders you have created as simply commodities to be used up, mass produced and wasted, all at the expense of making money. We build skyscrapers to block out the sun, install artificial light that blocks out the sky and stars, we no longer feel grass between our feet but we have cold concrete, certain animals are seen as not having emotions but simply being put on this earth for us to use as food and mistreat. We take all you have provided for us and use it until we can use no more. We exploit this beautiful home you have given us. And as we exploit it, we seem to wound you.

You cry in pain, but no one seems to hear it. Those who do hear you have been silenced by higher powers; those who try and mend your wounds are removed from the public. It seems we have attempted to numb ourselves from your pain, as it hurts us too much to know that we have begun the process of killing you. Only now have many people begun to realize the damage we have caused you, Mother Nature. Only now can we maybe, and I stress maybe, begin to fix the damage we have done to you. Mother Nature, I am sorry. But sorry will never be enough.

Open Letter From Mother Earth

Dear Children of the Soil,

I love the Creator, He is the one who brought me into being. You though are not only children of His spirit, you are mine also. You have a Heavenly Father and a Mother Earth. Why don’t you love me too? Why do you worship concrete so much? Why are you so content to let me die? Why are you letting most of other species; plant and animals alike suffer too? That isn’t what the almighty Creator planned.

I will tell you the creation story; it is mine to tell! I know better because I was there when He formed you out of me. On the day after He made light that scattered darkness and showed the infinite space.

I was next in line – he made me and wore a vast blue glorious veil over me. I am the base of all things that was made. He separated my body into parts; water and land. I became the home for all that was made. I am the keeper! You are killing me slowly, you pollute me in every way you can – by ocean, sky and land. You chase around after a wealth neither of us gave you.

Gold is only a shiny yellow metal and money – I don’t understand at all. What is it? Is it worth killing me, your mother planet, over? Where will you go children? Where will you go, heaven? Not until you return to me.

Do you plan on eking out life on some barren rock with lakes of poison surrounded by technology? No species can ever recover after killing its home world, its mother. To do so is spiritual suicide; you love me, as I love you.

Abuse isn’t love though and you abuse me with your lust for material wealth you do not need. You live in fear on a planet so achingly beautiful that there is no other like me. I am the best He ever made, you are supposed to be the finest species but you have a cultural insanity that we all don’t understand. You were meant to care for us like in those Eden days. Are those days gone? Children of the soil you need clean water, healthy soils and diverse crops. Your fellow species whom you now call lower are also my children, they need habitats too. You kill and eat the last of them. They need to reproduce not become you artifact and pleasurable trophies from a good hunt. You were never supposed to be greedy like this; you were supposed to respect the spirits of all. He gave you His spirit because He believes you have the ability to preserve. Use it now! Save me now! It’s a mother’s call! Life is sacred, you are sacred. We all are! The circle of life must thrive

Saturday @ My Local Market


The streets roared with rage for it now was awake from its peaceful slumber. Stalls were stuffed and shopkeepers screamed out offers on the top of their voices to attract customers and buyers desperately tried to bargain for the best possible prices. This is my local market, a place which is always drowning in the sea of people. Not a single empty place could be spotted between the stalls. Street hawking made the street extremely narrow forci…ng people to walk in a straight file like soldiers going to battle.

The sun mercilessly shone down upon the market. It warmed up the stuffy, stinking air which smelled of sweat and rotting garbage. No air freshener could have defeated this sour, rancid stink which ruled over the cramped air there. Beads of sweat glistened on everyone’s forehead and many faces turned red due to the sweltering heat. The meat stalls packed with shopping wives sampling various pound of meaty flesh. The sellers used their dirty hands to wade off flies pointlessly dancing around the fresh fish and smoked fish alike. A helpless woman fumbled through the scores of bags she carried and tried to tick on a list with a pen clenched between her teeth.
Sweaty buyers skilfully wove their way by locating minute gaps between people and squeezing through. Pickpockets felt like sewage rats in a feeding frenzy and munched purses out of many pockets of innocent buyers too busy bargaining. Experienced visitors like mama Bolu wore tight pants for the same reason.

The afternoon flamed the market exhaustion and breathlessness silently approached the first time visitors, but the everyday buyers proudly held on against the torture of the market and kept shopping. The deafening chaos in the market made ears split as if you were standing under a giant speaker.