Poem: Ecology (after Ernst Haeckel)

By: Brylle Bautista Tabora

Ecology became a household word that appeared in newspapers, magazines, and books—although the term was misused. Even now, people confuse it with terms such as environment and environmentalism. Ecology is neither.
​              -Elements of Ecology

We have called it struggle for existence, among many names, because that is how we’ve thought it to be, a follow-through of what had come before us: names that we only read in books, places we have never gone to before, and the mouths of the rivers in their lees of laughter. But it exists, like the very existence of touch, maybe through the slowness of bloom coming to being, or the transience of a puddle on the soil surface after a spring rain. And we are not exactly sure of its name, neither being environment nor environmentalism, and the books have not clearly defined it. Some say it is an agreement between man and those he holds superior to him, perhaps his love for the littlest of things: a small leaf, a single fiber of hair, a black feather, or the farthest fringe of life.

It has taken us years to define it, however undefinable, or at least to give it a name. All we know is that animals do not bother to care why the ground shakes in the wee hours of the night, or why the trees have hidden so many secrets from us under their gnarled branches. For this we should only be thankful that light enters through God’s pores and speaks to us in many ways. We will go on with our lives, our feet breathing at the same time with the ground, now with the promise of rain.

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