If I Were the Earth

If I were the Earth I would be patient.
Newly born they cut my hair and
	burrow into my skin.
Have they lost all perception?
Have they forgotten they are of me, part of me,
	all life their brethren?
I fear they dig themselves to extinction, my children.
They dig, attempting to control me, never realizing
	I am as far beyond their control as the light 
	arriving here from distant stars.
I Am the Earth.
I curl myself around my warm core,
	snug against the cold of space.
I wait.