Reflection

Reflection

An average human being lives for around 75 years. Sometimes I wonder who our "last generation" may be: the generation that witnesses doomsday – the moment when Earth’s resources are finally drained and we lack a Plan B. As the burden passes on to me – us – from the last generation, I oftentimes question my ability to make some change, any change, to this world before things go haywire. But it’s precisely the panic at the thought of resentment, vulnerability, and death that allows us to take a different perspective when looking at the problem of mankind’s destruction of the environment. Natural habitats suffer more acutely than we do and do so at no fault of their own. A tree can live up to a thousand years; a river can last to tens of millions. Like the tree in my poem, many of those that have existed before us and will exist after us stand helplessly, watching us slowly dismantle what was once theirs. That is, of course, if they haven’t been given a huge trim by a tree razor or, in the case of an ancient river, become a fat cat’s bath water. It is for this reason – an expanded empathy with nature – that I have chosen to search for hope in our struggle to better care for the environment by adopting the point of view of one of the true owners of Earth – trees. If we have ever chosen to step into their shoes (or should I say, roots) we would find how greatly they suffer from the selfishness of our consumption and how fully dependent they are on humanity to bring their bloodshed to an end. In my poem, both the tree – resilient and selfless – and Bun Saluth – fearless and determined – are heroes. And you can be, too. You and I can be, too – acta, non verba – if we take action now.