Concrete pathways stretch to eternity,
Noise and pollution permeate the air.
Technology seems to devour serenity,
Surrounded by those who don’t seem to care.
I look around and see the influence of man,
A bolt of steel, a shard of glass.
Sometimes we feel like sardines in a can,
While dreaming of a roll in the grass.
Imagine this to your surprise;
We were only escorted from the garden.
Remember our duty was to supervise,
yet to this duty we’ve never been given pardon
The garden is still beneath your very feet,
because we are still servants to Nature.
Though our task is still far from complete,
It reaches to us to provide and nurture.
True, man has done well covering ‘her’ up,
Our buildings, they weigh heavy on her skin.
Though she still remembers to fill your cup,
Or bless you with warmth from within.
On my path, I’ve found but one requirement,
In order for Nature to provide for my every need.
That is to be a porter and to be competent,
Occasionally saving an animal, or hugging a tree.
For this small duty, there is ample compensation;
Like ripe berry’s found, or shelter from the rain.
I’ve never felt cheated, or indignation,
Except against Industry for causing her pain.
The agreement has been; give as much as you take.
Such is true with any relationship.
Here it’s our earth, air, and water that is at stake,
So caring for the garden is really hip!
The garden will give you what you need,
So to the garden I ask you to be kind.
This way the garden for you can reappear indeed,
And it’s gifts and rewards you shall find.