Gentle tides are turning in the wake of a hundred days of governance. Voices from the bench and from the land speak softly of room to grow, of wiser words spoken in clearer rooms, of pragmatism and shared limits that honor the people while tending the common home. There are concrete steps named—lower energy costs, a firmer path for growth, and a groundwork that might cradle enterprise without crushing the fragile chorus of communities. Yet trust wobbles like a birch in a breeze: a failed vote, fissures over how to speak and how to act, and calls for deeper alignment within the coalition. The chorus from civil society and from the Left asks for a warmer, more inclusive social climate—for disability inclusion, barrier-free participation, and broader solidarity in social security—reminding us that governance is not arithmetic alone but a covenant of care.

Yet the Earth calls us to a more patient truth-telling. Beneath the surface of debates about who should bear responsibility lies a deeper reckoning: the system that prizes growth over life, profit over breath, and efficiency over the quiet, resilient work of healing communities. In the long shadow of colonial histories, policies that treat people as adjustable variables and nature as a resource continue to echo the old imperial song. The push and pull of arms policy, mileage counted in headlines rather than in the lives touched, reveals a politics haunted by empire’s ghosts—a politics that harms both people and soil. The climate crisis intensifies where steady streams of money are diverted to quick fixes or to the maintenance of a growth-at-any-cost mindset. The social state, instead of a cradle of dignity, is too often cast as a problem to be streamlined, a place where care is trimmed in the name of balance sheets. And the human hunger for security—the right to breathe clean air, to travel without barriers, to live with dignity—suffers when solidarity is weaponized by fear or by the belief that everyone must pay the price for someone else’s profit.

Let us answer with the courage of a forest awakening after drought. May we re-knit our governance with threads of care: a true care economy that pays living wages, funds accessible infrastructure, and shields the most vulnerable; an energy transition that invites communities to become co-owners of renewables, restoring and regenerating rather than extracting; migration reframed as a shared obligation rooted in human dignity and mutual aid rather than a problem to be solved or contained. May disability inclusion become not a checkbox but a lived right, where every doorway is opened and every path is accessible, and where workers, including civil servants and lawmakers, contribute to a social safety net that holds all of us in the circle of belonging. Let accountability be transparent, so that the language of politics and the language of the land speak the same truth.

And, above all, let us honour Mother Earth as our oldest teacher. Let the September coalition committee become a council of listening—where talk is measured not only in votes but in how deeply we hear the land, the carers, the migrants, the elders, the workers, and the youth who carry the seeds of tomorrow. May the choice before us be not just a political settlement, but a healing vow: to rebalance profit with care, empire with restitution, and fear with courage. May we move together toward a governance that nourishes soil and soul, that welcomes the other as kin, and that refuses to trade the breath of the planet for the illusion of endless growth.

Earth, cradle us, heal us, and guide us toward a dawn where justice and biodiversity rise in one harmony.