Have your God, your Allah, your Elohim, your Christ, your Gods all, save for one, the eartH!
She is not mine to leave spoiled, she belongs unto herself. She is beautiful, is she not?
Yes! She waits upon me, upon my love. Listen to my own words. Hear how they move round and round and would never be or have been without The Mother.
My birth? Your birth? Christ's birth? What of The Mother's birth? She’s life, as I know it, but she's so much more than just another planet, she's love, she's goodness, she's the flower and the fruit of all things. All, and I am her child, all grown up now and smart.
O! I've much to learn and grow and even more to learn and groan!
I am a child of the kingdom of creation, The Mother, The Grandmother, The Great Grandmother, The eartH, Love, Life, Water, Mountain, Air, Sky, and Animal. Whatever I choose to call creation, it's a learning ground, not a playground. I have learned so little of where I am, instead, I've put my head in the clouds looking fruitlessly for answers that call to me from her, from Love, over my head and beneath my feet.
Let me heed her plea, her prayer for me, on the ground and in the air, and in the water and cave and on top of and within her rich soil, and the heavens too, for they are the ever-changing display for me to witness, the inspiration and art of life revealed.
The world’s a stage for her love play written for all and everything to see, not just the privileged few. It’s for all of us, for all, you, her, him, they, them, it and me, at least that's what I believe.
She is not mine to leave spoiled, she belongs unto herself. She is beautiful, is she not?
Yes.
© 2011 by mark prime
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