
sprouts and roots
A healthy you, is a healthy world.
Life in the Anthropocene.
'At the bridge to Asgard, sprouts and roots grow the ever tree'
through the gates of life and death, and the turning of the Midgard snake.
We walk beneath a starry sky, weaved by light and dark and obscured shades our eyes can not see.
We melt and turn the tides of time, as we spill the soil between our fingers.
It drips back down to where it came from, all while the ants and worms grow unseen layers of brand new soil.
On top those critters, we step right next to the growing daisy, as it blooms beneath the radiance of the stars, and it drinks with thirst from deep within the Earth.
That growing daisy drinks what is, a cup of filtered nutrients, born from sunlight and plants that breathe life into us all. Sheltered by the clouds, and whispy air, we live inside a planetary bowl, contained within spheres of layered ozone, and magnetic fields that shields our way of life from unknown stars and radiation from outer space.
2050AD
[ Oceans run the risk of having more total weight of plastic than fish.]

It populates and wickedly naughty it wisely makes out, through its lovers, the countless insects, and the gentle storm.
The breeze that swirls around this entire sphere we call our home. At times it howls and tears the roots of trees back out from the Earth, it snaps their branches, crunches, crushes, wreck their trunks. And wisps the hair of countless beings.
The air we breathe lives and dwells inside this circled window that encapsulates our entire world.
And while it sometimes howls, it can also be a tender lover that almost pass us by unseen felt. As its fingertips gently caress its way down our hair and skin.
But each day, no matter how rough or sweet the wind appears, it spreads their pollen, fills our lungs and gives us life.
The air that giant birds circles through as they shed their chains and cast themselves high into the air.
But once upon a time, we started to fill it up with shit that made us all, sick and dying, for tens of thousands, a hundred thousand years and generations. We waged war, killed destroy, ruined lives and descended upon everything beautiful.
Every little thing had to be corrupted.
That was the way of life and mantra, for humanity.
And still, there are even, the tiny toxic things that fall back down, to the soil and water, the things we drink and grow. We corrupt and ruin everything as our filth spread across everything.
And before we knew it, the pollinator dies, sick and damaged, we harm them too as we grow ourselves, weak and ill, we are farmers now, not of health and lust but doctors of branded death and profits, growing illness on polluted rolls of candy, we pack our food, dipped in coal, tar, and oil, plastic sweets, and corrupted food.
Aeons later there we are, lessons learned, lessons flawed. Wisdom earned.
At the gates of Asgard, living, walking at the sprouts and roots of Yggdrasil.
Time it flies lives and dies. As the snake turns again, ever endless, perpetual its always been.
And the thing we are, it changes, we fall and rise, back to our feet.
Harmed and hurt, scared but wiser, some will crack and shed their life, like wasted maggots.
While we learn and change, becoming more a healthy collective whole.
We are like the seeds of life and butterflies. Ancient roots of the northern spruce.
We shed our remnants and grow a stronger, better cycle.
And as life and death and time swirls around our sheltered gates, we move beyond our wicked past, healing wounds and planetary soil.
Species breathing what is now, cleaner air, while we all drink natures sprinkled water from the nearby creek, and the daisy grows, wild and free in healthy soil.
And beyond this date, our species soon move and migrate far beyond our Earthly realm, spreading across both this planet and deeper into the ever tree and unknown space. Propelled forward by light and endless energy. With gates and bridges to keep us grounded and connected, in the flesh and time, throughout the realms, our sprawling, man-made paths are now, filled with flowers, wild and free instead of air that makes us sick.
And through it all, the tree keeps growing.
Auburn red, green and yellow where time stands still yet always moves.
And in related news.
The White House is on and off contemplating becoming a house of Elephant hating slaughter.
Will they allow the disgraceful import of Lion and Elephant trophies from Africa, or will they not? That is the question Hamlet still ponders as
Trump first allowed it only to change his mind hours later due to a glorious worldwide outcry. But the question is still on the table.
All while reality is that the
African Lions and Elephants need our ongoing protection against all forms of hunting, legal and illegal. The widespread corruption and the illegal poaching all forms of legal hunting have always given rise too is far too burdensome for the still plummeting African Lion and Elephants ( And let us not forget the tigers, and cheetahs and countless of other African species too, which are all under severe threat from poaching, land loss, climate change and human encroachment, armed conflicts, human-made pollution, and corruption )
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in this life of ours scattered across this tiny sphere
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