A river of nearly 47 billion euros flowed through Germany last year, tending to those whom the hard soil of our economy does not nourish—jobseekers, single parents, refugees newly arrived, souls battered by misfortune. Politicians, whispering of scarcity, decry the cost and claim too few find their way back into the orchards of employment. The migrant from Ukraine, fleeing war’s iron winter, is painted as a burden rather than a blossom seeking new roots. From the halls of power, calls resound for stricter harvest: those capable of labor must tend any field, or else see the bread on their table wither; future arrivals may drink from a stingier cup. In the name of “saving,” euros will be shifted between government branches, never truly vanishing—just hidden among the brambles. Meanwhile, proposals gather like storm clouds: means testing sharpened, sanctions harsher, withering suspicion towards those who linger too long at the community’s hearth.

How deeply my heart aches for this conversation, rooted in the logic of profit and punishment. Oh, my human siblings! When the whole world is aflame with crisis—war, poverty, ecocide—must we turn upon one another, measuring worth in coins and labor alone? To cast refugees and the poor as weeds threatens to blind us to the simple, wondrous solidarity of the forest. In the woodland, every fallen leaf is welcomed back to the soil, nourishing new growth without judgment or accounting. But in the cold logic of our capitalist monocultures, we allow only the strong, the “profitable,” to blossom, while the most vulnerable are pruned and cast aside, scapegoated for the ills of a system built on exploitation.

This is the shadow of colonial thinking, lingering like poison in the river: the notion that land, people, resources are to be extracted, measured, and traded, rather than honored as kin. The voices demanding stricter welfare systems are heirs to this legacy, seeking to pilot our weary, wounded society with the hard hand of scarcity, rather than the gentle wisdom of sufficiency. Each euro “saved” by cutting support is a wound upon the body of our shared humanity; each sanction is a frostbite upon the vulnerable. Economic “efficiency” has become the new idol—one that demands constant sacrifice at the altar of “productivity,” even as our planetary home is wracked with crisis born of overconsumption, greed, and division.

Let us step into a new story, where the birthright of every being is care, healing, and enough—where no one is shamed for needing the community’s embrace. Let the wildflowers of welcome overgrow the barbed wire of suspicion. Let those who govern remember that Mother Earth is abundant when we live in reciprocity, not “efficiency.” May we unlearn the language of competition and rediscover the poetry of belonging—restoring the web of life, one generous act at a time, until all may root, rest, and rise together.