Writing: Demeter

 Hah.  I figured out how to do jump breaks.  It's been a while, people.

Jump into Demeter's Mind...


I don’t understand this modern humanity.  In the old days, children were precious.  A child meant the world to a parent.  Mine certainly did.  I laid the earth barren for the loss of my child.  Every year I weep and let nothing grow because my child has grown up into an adult with her own family. 
These women I hear about hurting their children…  I don’t understand.  Children are beaten, raped, tortured in soul and body, or even killed by those who gave them life.  They grow up to early or grow up not at all.  Giving in to every whim is just as hurtful as giving them nothing.  These children scream and get rewarded, never learning to fend for themselves.

These people allow the ground that feeds them and clothes them and shelters them to be hurt by pollution.  Maybe it’s a logical leap that they wouldn’t nurture what they gave birth to.  These people are nothing more than children themselves who have never grown up.  Spoiled, rotten, nasty.  They take everything for granted and give nothing back. 

People are starving, dying because they do not have anything to eat.  People are dying because they do not have clean water.  On this planet some waste more water brushing their teeth than others have to live on.  How can some people have nothing when so much goes to waste?  There are mountains of waste and millions wanting.

Where are those that respect the harvest?  That respect the earth and each other?  Why are the farmers being run off their farms so corporations can take over?  Is there no one left that can make do for themselves?

Wait.

There.  There it is.  A faint spark, a flash, a thought that belongs in the dirt.  An ancient thought, a green thought.  Here and there are minds that long for family farms, for working for fresh food.  Another mind, another time.

Chickens in the city.  A destroyed and abandoned lot being turned into a garden.  Herbs grown in windows.  Neighbors willing to share what they have.  Maidens caring for neglected children.  See the flowers grow up in their steps.

These are my daughters and sons.  See how they rise from the dark.  See how they shine a light in a dark and dreary world.  They give hope to those with none.  They show us an image of a world that can survive.