The rain falls from the sky and the earth opens outward to receive it and the plants are nourished by the soil. It is not ours it is not owned it is not
anyone’s. The dirt, which holds the water, is rich with salts and minerals
and the sky which gives us rain is not owned, is not anyone’s. The air which we breathe was here before our kind knew life, yes the air which we breathe which gives us life. And the earth is ours, forever ours, we own it.

You are forever mine, because you gave me your life. I did not ask for it, but you gave it, freely, because of the earth. But I will not give you my life because you do not deserve to own it. For the love which binds us, which will bind us, is not known or understood except by the rain which falls from the sky. And the earth, which will not know us, which is not ours, will not receive it.

In the final judgement of the people of the earth, when the earth casts off its burdens, when the sky is rent asunder, where the rain is forever rain, we will know how you betrayed us. And the wound cast into your own cold heart will lie open for a year. And games you played against us and the war you waged against us will be brought out from the shadows for all to see. Will the darkness of their hearts will be pierced by a ray of golden light? Or will the animosity of our spirits overwhelm what hope of redemption still lies beneath the earth?