Mother Earth

I walk among the mixed trees in the small, shady forest.

The Earth is covered in snappy, old sticks and crunchy leaves

that call to me, “Come sit, and hear our stories”

The bold shapely rock holding smooth edges feels cool beneath my fingertips,

as if a connection has been made between two souls,

it speaks to me, “Sit, sweet child. You’ve had a long day.”

As the sticks snap and crackle under my weight,

they teach me that being brittle will get me nowhere in life.

The coloured leaves are sprawled across the damp and dark soil,

they remind me, “Oh honey, the old parts of you are beautiful too”

Dead, dried leaves still hang from the branches of trees, and give me fair warning, “Daughter, remember that this life, all life, revolves in cycles of life and death. It is but natural.”

I sigh and pause, standing in the heart of the forest.

Looking at the Earth as she calls to me,

“Welcome home, Darling”