An ecological footprint measures how fast a human being
consumes resources and generates waste compared to how
fast nature can absorb that waste and create new resources.

May my eco-footprint shrink
          and shrink, yet also
          sink into soft soil
          deep enough to leave
          a foot-shaped impression.

Let the rain—ever the rain—
          fill this foot-mark, making
          the imprint of me a small lake
          whose shore outlines the shape
          of my weight upon this earth.

May this foot-lake invite tiny ripples
          of light onto its surface
          whenever the sun appears.

At night may it also reflect the moon,
          while—small as its dimensions are—
          still finding room for a few stars.

Filled, abrim, let my earthly footprint
          be fit to take onto itself
          the mirror-twin of any
          tree branch leaning over,
          any cloud making
          its swift sky-scuttle
          far above.

At my imprint’s edge
          let finch, nuthatch, and wren
          come to drink from me.