There are days
when the earth remembers
how to breathe in color.
The sky opens
its quiet book of blue,
and the fields answer
in a thousand shades of green.
Clouds wander slowly above
white with silence,
silver with light,
like unfinished thoughts
the sky forgot to keep.
Trees stand like old philosophers,
their brown trunks rooted deep
in the patient memory of soil,
holding centuries of wind
inside their quiet rings.
Far on the horizon
the sun writes its gentle fire
orange like warmth,
red like memory,
yellow like hope
falling softly across the day.
For a moment
the world becomes simple again.
Green becomes healing.
Blue becomes freedom.
Wind becomes breath.
But somewhere
a city wakes beneath another sky.
The blue disappears
behind a wall of grey.
Clouds no longer wander
they carry smoke.
The air grows heavy
with engines,
dust,
burning fields,
and the quiet exhaustion
of a planet asked to give too much.
And suddenly
the question arrives
soft, but impossible to silence.
Why must we wound
what keeps us alive?
Why trade forests
for smoke?
Why erase green and blue
only to suffocate
inside our own making?
Nature was never our enemy.
The forests were lungs.
The rivers were memory.
The sky was mercy.
And still
the earth waits.
Still the wind carries seeds.
Still the clouds search for blue.
Still somewhere
a field answers the sky
in a thousand shades of green.
Perhaps the earth
has not forgotten us.
Perhaps
it is only waiting
for us to remember.
To let the sky remain blue.
To let the earth remain green.
To let clouds wander freely
through a sky that can breathe.
Because when the earth breathes
we breathe.
And when it suffocates
so do we.
Listen closely.
Even beneath the noise of cities
the planet is whispering.
Do not turn the sky into smoke.
Do not trade forests for silence.
Do not forget the color of life.
Let the blue remain blue.
Let the green remain alive.
Let the earth remain nature.
Because the day the world forgets
how to breathe in color
is the day
humanity forgets
how to live.
