UnEarth Magazine.

_{Writing by Caveny Mantzaris – Art by Lydia Allan}

 Dark soil tumbles through my fingers. I dig deeply until my hands are enveloped by cool richness. Satisfied, I reach into my pocket for the treasure and place it in the center of my palm. The smooth little teardrop sleeps — charged with life, bursting with hope. I drop the seed into the dented earth, taking my last look at its perfect almond shape before drawing the ground over it. A single star, quietly doused in darkness. 

My heart feels lighter after having taken action. Hope has been planted. The following instructions for saving Earth? Have patience. My mind rebels against waiting. In my rush to see sprouting, I allow a storm to raid my thoughts and cloud my judgement. 

“How is something so small possibly going to make a difference? How can it reverse its burial beneath layers of heavy dirt?” My mind spirals as I ache for change. 

Have patience. Saving the world is no simple task. It will take time to give Earth more time. 

. . . 

I look out at my garden through the crystal-like glass of my kitchen window. The copper soil lies still, harboring my little seed. The storm has passed in my mind; only the earthy scent of rain remains. Trust cradles my heart. 

“While tiny and seemingly powerless, the seed has the strength to transform itself and the bleakness of my garden,” I think to myself. I watch the blanket of soil, trusting that my action will come to fruition. 

Trust. Knowledge is advancing — a warrior in the battle for Earth. Always pushing forward, developing new strategies, relentlessly moving. You, too, are a warrior in this battle. Trust your fellow warriors. Trust that you are not alone in your efforts for Earth. 

. . . 

Birthed from the ground is a delicate, fresh bud. It seems almost shy to me — new to the world and humbly beautiful. A pocketful of hope. As it bathes in the spring air, the bud’s seams slowly burst, cracking into an intricately woven mandala. Soft, golden petals dance like butterfly wings in the breeze. 

I watch as sunlight rolls over my garden only to be trapped abruptly in the shade of the wheelbarrow I carelessly left outside. Darkness shrouds my plant now. I abandon my kitchen observatory to move the obstruction without hesitation. “How could I possibly sit back and watch as such natural elegance fades before my eyes?” 

Days pass, and the gilded flower grows. One day, though, I notice its petals curling and shrinking — a silent plea for care. From its days basking in the smoking sun, my little plant has begun to shrivel. Again, I run to its rescue. The dusty earth is splintering above my flower’s roots and seems to sigh with relief as I pour cool water upon it. The stem strengthens; the glow of the petals returns. 

Loving and living to the fullest require action. Can you truly be surprised when something deprived of care crumbles before your eyes?  

. . . 

The now flourishing blossom greets me every morning, framed by my window. As I’m admiring its beauty, my focus expands to take in the rest of the world — barren and plain. A wave of helplessness washes over me.  

“How can I possibly cover the ground in sparkling blossoms? It takes such time and effort to sustain just one flower.” 

Just then, I catch sight of my neighbor across the street, kneeling in her garden. Her blouse is dusted with rich soil, her expression hopeful as she drops a tiny ivory seed into the earth. My heart lifts. 

There is power in numbers. If we humans each take little steps forward, we can indeed restore color to Earth. It takes patience. It takes trust. It takes conscious actions that stem from love. But it’s possible.