Almost round, outlined in blue br Too lonely to be understood br Intimate to her tenants' touch br The globe in space is effortless. br br A bulb of light for the dim expanse br Rotating, hovering in grace br Her dance a step unknown to those br Who claw and scar her surfaces. br br Scientists of restrictive laws br Know that life and sustenance br Flow only from her hidden core br To which all worshippers are called. br br I touch her grass and trees with care br From her I learn that all I am br Will grow and eat and age and die br On earth and waters she provides. br br The globe rotates her deserts of time br Where human life and love began br The oceans churn and come to rest br Where they meet the open sky. br br Seabirds cry their panic notes br Coastal creatures seek the hills br While in a quiet island bower br A bee stabs at the buttercups. br br By Pooh stickers and alphabets br A child spins her globe around: br 'Daddy, I want to see Africa. br Can you take me there again? ' br br Enclosed in remnants of the woods br Spirit guardians recall br Her most intricate fish and beasts br The stories loved by childish hearts. br br Her king of beasts known to be wise br But when wisdom is not his prize br Her soil that yields his daily bread br Is stained with red, his daily blood. br br Saplings nursed in netting shade br Are planted stem by stem with care br In a yearly rite, on Sahelian hills br After the falling of the rain. br br Semi-lit against the dark br With purpose through its daily work br A tiny brush restores the glow br To fading faces of the globe.