EVERYTHING WE TOOK FOR “LATER”

The Season of Creation isn't a mere ceremonial nod to nature but a call to radical accountability. It's an invitation sacred to acknowledge that Creation is not a scenery for our being but a living, breathing onlooker to our possible courses of action. This season demands more than admiration; it demands action! To truly honor creation means to challenge the systems that we have established, the harm we've brought into line, and the apathy we've conceded. It means lining up our faith with justice, our reverence with responsibility. The Earth is crying and wailing, and so this season becomes a reflection, a reminder of its outpouring tears.

Written by: Hannah Mae Tan

Layout by: Monica Santos

October 5, 2025 | 12:30 P.M.

A few mornings, the Earth feels like a memory—

not gone, but dwindling at the edges.

You hear it in the bees’ silence,

in the way trees veer like they’re tired

of bearing up the methane skies.

We talk about “nature” like it’s discrete—

a place we visit, not a home we’ve scarred.

But the fumes are indifferent to semantics.

It fills your lungs either way,

Calls you out on your forgetting.

You feel it in your spine before your mind concurs,

that soundless panic of awareness too late.

Like waking mid-fall, mid-dream,

mid-extinction, perhaps,

And still sauntering past it.

Creation is sacred, they say.

But reverence without responsibility

is just a song and dance.

It’s not enough to light candles.

You have to extinguish the fire, too.

So listen carefully.

Not for thunder, but for rupture.

For what breaks when we don’t.

This season asks for more than awe.

It demands accountability.