In the name of daybreak
and the eyelids of the morning
and the wayfaring moon
and the night when it departs,

I swear I will not dishonour
my soul with hatred,
but offer myself humbly
as a guardian of nature,
as a healer of misery,
as a messenger of wonder,
as an architect of peace.

In the name of the sun and its mirrors
and the day that embraces it
and the cloud veils drawn over it
and the utmost night
and the male and the female
and the plants bursting with seed
and the crowning seasons
of the firefly and the apple,

I will honour all life –
wherever and in whatever form
it may dwell – on Earth my home,
and in the mansions of the stars.

With the day in disrepair,
My mind awash with nonsense,
My head aching,

Can I keep in mind that
Nothing doesn't fit?

when the world is in such steep decline,
is it really?
my heart tells me that this life-decimating behavior is the most egregious sin of life against life,
but is it?
this verdant planet spinning through the cosmos is under attack,
isn't it?
mankind's many myopias serve as a de facto justification for our death march,
don't they?