I am writing this letter to you, because my children are backrupt. 

They are bankrupt, not because they don't have any money, but because they do not have the knowledge. Knowledge that I am not their father. You are. In fact, you are their mother as well. Their mother who waters the flowers, make their food, and clean their homes. But they do not cherish you. 

It is time for change, but your children are still deluded in their world of gold and parties. They revel, they sleep, and they dream. They are happy and sated. But they do not have nightmares. You will soon invade theirs. 

Gaia, they have not changed. I have pleaded and yet they say, "wait a minute, wait a minute..." and fail to recognize that the world is on the edge. Get wise, young children, I am faltering, you say. But their ears are clogged with ear phones, playing sounds of discordant music. Oh Gaia, how can this be? 

Now, I believe, the rains have stopped, the earth has shattered, the plants are long burnt to dust. And they now come to you and say their prayers."Sorry, Earth, we have failed to treat you well...."

Will anyone listen now?

Sincerely,

B