If you were the earth
out of which everyone’s food grew
animal and human alike
you would need a rest too.
You need a rest too. Take one.
Not in seven years.
Every year, a week or two
outside of your element. It will
help define your element.
Every week, a full day.
We keep repeating this
until the time between
instances of that day diminishes
and someone does drink from the
extra cup at the table.
Every day, a full hour
or, do like the Spanish and
take a siesta, a day off
in the middle of your day.
And what are you doing at night?
I hope not thinking about the day.
The two are different.
That’s in chapter one. You
may have to start this
over if you missed that.
Give it a few months and you
will start this over.
When the leaves leave
the trees. When the heat of your
summer rest is reduced to
digital memories. When
the round keeps coming around
and the slaves are freed
and the complicated laws of
real estate find their ancient roots.
Take a rest. We are not
the owners here. It would be
generous to call us the caretakers.
Take a rest. Free your slave.
Put your food in the cabinet
for later. This is the Earth. Giver
of all, to all. Goodnight Earth.
