I have not found peace,
 but I have glimpsed it
in the happy eye of a dog
 on a walk,
 trotting,
 panting in step with step
 after a mad scramble
 after a fleeting rabbit
      or chasing
       a squirrel up a tree
and at home darting beneath
 slumbering lids,
 chasing dreams.

It is cruel and embarrassing
 to have an asteroid strike my beauty;
my ecosystems are invaded and disrupted
 with the havoc and the gash.
When my volcanoes erupt,
 my people chastise my
  self-inflicted violence.
They narrow their eyes at my fickle nature;
 they question my bountifulness.
In fear, some look to the moon
 and the craters and despair,
  but I am earth;
   I am shrouded in miracle:
    patient, folding old skin within
     to be rekindled into new,
 canvasing barren landscapes with
  humble grass, and flowers, soon.