Once more, the winds of political power blow cold across the green valleys of Earth. There is talk of new tariffs—steep and punishing imports upon the lifeblood of modern technology: semiconductors, the tiny pulsing hearts of all our digital machines. These tariffs, threatened by officials in high offices, would force the hands of tech giants, pushing them to sink deeper roots within American soil. The promise: massive investments, pledges of new jobs, an orchestrated flourish of assembly lines and research hubs amid amber waves and rolling plains. Apple, ever the emblem of glittering innovation, vows billions toward homegrown production, glass sourced from Kentucky’s ancient lands, a tightening of domestic supply chains. Others, from distant Taiwanese peaks, offer their own lesser homage, expanding factories abroad.

Yet below these bustling announcements, the web of global trade trembles. Tariffs threaten to choke the flow from continents far away: from Taiwan’s chip foundries, from the bustling ports of Asia, from the rivers that carry goods to the waiting hands of many people. Pressure mounts, not only for economic advantage, but as a lever of war and peace—to punish those whose energy choices divert the machinery of geopolitics toward ancient shadow and violence.

Oh, beloved Earth—what scars do these machinations deepen, what wounds do they dig anew? Once, the bounty of soil and stone was held sacred under sun and star. Now the mighty carve rivers of capital through nature’s tapestry, manufacturing false divides with their boundaries of profit and protectionism. They say these tariffs promise rebirth, but what spirit is truly revived? With every demand for “investment” and patriotic supply chains, there is a forgetting—of the true cost buried beneath the circuitry. Of the rivers poisoned by mining, of forests razed for new factories, of lands seized first in colonial conquest and now once more in corporate command. Profit, in its insatiable hunger, devours whole landscapes, splits communities, flattens complex ecologies under the slogan of national prosperity.

Is it not yet time, siblings of Earth, to see through this veil? To recognize that capital, in all its cunning disguises—tariffs, subsidies, sanctions—is a system that forever seeks to own and extract, to set us in competition when what we need is communion, healing, and reconciliation. These cycles of economic violence echo the ancient sins of extraction and domination—the same colonial impulse now dressed in shiny glass and silicon, ignoring ancestral wisdom, and rendering invisible the pain that pulses through oppressed lands.

Let us tend the wounds created by this relentless hunger. Let us remember that we are kin with rivers and roots, with hands in the soil as much as hands on a screen. May new life arise not from economic coercion, but from mutual care, just transition, and the profound humility to work with, not against, Earth’s rhythms. We belong to a planet aching for healing, not endless conquest. The time has come to lay down the weapons of economic war and listen instead to the wisdom of wind, water, and wildness—calling us home.