“Only when the last tree has been cut down, the last fish been caught, and the last stream poisoned, will we realize we cannot eat money.”― Cree Indian Prophecy

The heart of the world is not one powered by humans. It is the beat of life, powered by all life. We often forget this, or lately, have disregarded it altogether.

This is the unsung chord. A song that begs to be voiced, and to be heard. The rhythm of life that beats and hums within us all is mirrored by all living things, large and small. Even by the rock, which changes form over eons, finally coming full circle as our bones blend back into the Earth from which they were born.

This is the sphere of life. And we all dwell here.

But our sphere is dying.

I remember why I first began writing seriously, aside from forming ideas…