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This Holy Earth

In the name of every muscle in our bodies, we beseech you
In the name of the feather, the sun, the mountain, the river, the otter, the salmon, the pine and the stone
In the name of babies, now and forever more, and of lovers, and of sex.
In the name of the breathing, pushing, spreading, decaying, pulsing earth beneath our gills, our roots, our talons, our hooves and our bare skinned feet:

Help us.
Help us easily distracted, heartbreakingly self-centered, brilliant and beautiful big-brained creatures,
Us business-as-usual, new-on-the-planet, slow-moving, deep loving creatures
Help us to remember that this wondrously intelligent orb has generated living art beyond anything we will ever hope to approximate
24 hours a day
For six billion years --

Help us to remember that we can seize the power
That we can raise our voices
That we can flood the courtrooms, the schoolrooms, the boardrooms,
the email, voice mail, letters to the editor, the streets, the banks, the churches and the temples
That we can rise up in power on behalf of all those who live in tree, cave, hive, village, dam, river, ocean, and suburb.
That we can rise up on behalf of all we love and all that keeps us alive.

We beseech you: visible and invisible,
wild and tame, past, present and future.
Have mercy on us human beings.
Help us give birth to the human race.

Libby Roderick
Singer and Composer
Turtle Island Records
Anchorage, Alaska
© 2000