she signs her name x

She has long yellow hair and scars down her body. wearing skirts that flow around her legs, beads upon beads adorn her neck. her english accent carries dignity. her face shines with light and life, reflecting the qualities you know are in you too. She speaks of truth and mindfulness. Genuine, encompassing of love, gratuitude. Gift of the earth to the earth. to its animals and its rivers, their fossils and rocks. creating art, creating friends, creating food, creating compassion.

i look into her truthful eyes and she touches me. read this, she says. and i do. i read it and i too am awakened. i cannot deny that i have read it. i cannot go back to who i was before. no. I was all these things before...but nobody spelled it out for me that I was. no. Other people have been spelling it out for me for ages. What I mean is, before now, I did not spell it out for myself.

i am this earth

I am this earth. My bones are rocks, my veins are rivers. Rivers that carry the blood that is the water of their world. My organs are continents, some holding seas. It hosts the things that live on and in me. My hair is grass, my nose a mountain, my throat a cave into the molten core of this earth. This body revolves, it wanes with the moon and gravity tugs my feet. My breath is the breath of trees and clouds.