Statues of life

My husband told me about Easter Island. In an attempt to get massive stone statues to the outer ridge of the island the people there had to cut down all the trees. Once the trees were gone life was unsustainable and they had to leave. It reminded me of a Doctor Seuss book, or an Aesop’s fable. It reminded me of what our culture is doing. We haul our Gods, our stone weight around with us. Trashing the the earth for power, money, sex, religion.  At the end our legacy will be no more important than these stone heads staring at nothing, given personality by an artist’s touch but having no life, no purpose, no reason for being. Our sky scrapers, and landfills will our tomb stone be. The earth will abide, but at what cost to life?

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