To the mother of my body, but not of my birth

As a child, I run through your woods, roots running deep, leaves crunching underfoot, birds singing happily above, hand in hand with the children of Earth. We play in your streams, catching crawfish, discovering treasure in the glittering mica. We teach each other to gently pluck the end of the honeysuckle flower. Slowly pull out a single drop of nectar and touch it to our outstretched tongues. Our entire world reflected in that tiny globe of ambrosia. I thank you for the joy of existence.

I grow older, and my sacred sandcastle of innocence crumbles under the selfish stampede of teens on the edge of becoming. My body, like yours, lush and ripe. My body, like yours, stripped bare and plundered. I float in the gentle caress of your waves, my tears of sorrow join your salty ocean. How many more tears have you shed, to create these vast seas? I thank you for understanding.

I walk through your forests, the smell of juniper and pine a balm on my bruised soul. I lay on a rock, rough and faded in your solar gaze, and you warm my cold and neglected spirit. My feet dangle in your cool stream, rejuvenating my weary body. I bring a lover of my choosing to your mossy banks and we feed each other blackberries, licking the sticky sweet juice from each other’s bodies. The scent of our sex mixes with the smell of wood and dirt. Our cries of ecstasy harmonize with the songs of crickets and crows. And we lie, content, wearing only your gentle breeze, looking up at the sky and imagining our future in the clouds. I thank you for hope and healing.

I move to a concrete box, separated from you by processed rock. Breathing processed air, eating processed food. I’ve never felt so disconnected. Beyond my windows of processed sand, people move about like tiny machines, tracing and retracing the same circuits. I move among them, my body surrounded but my heart isolated. At night, I lay on the roof, looking up at the few stars I can see in the smog-filled sky. I welcome the cold air that makes me shiver, makes my teeth chatter. Finally, I feel you. I'm never truly alone. Thank you for the company.

I'm a rat in a race, a dog in a fight, just one ant in an army, destined to be crushed under the cruel heel of humanity. I'm tired of this sick spiral, lost in what could have been, the only thing stronger than my anger is my pain. I rage at the world, at society, at your children. The storm rises, lightning crashes, and from our burning throats a thundering bellow demands justice. I feel you rage beside me. Hot rain pours down from a purple sky. Together, we battle to better the world, by just one soul, by just one degree. We'll probably lose, but I thank you for fighting beside me.

This child, only possible by science, tethers me again to the Earth. He loves to be outside, to stare at the moon and stars in your black blanket of a sky. He loves to crawl in your grass, splash in your water, and feel your rocks. He hugs your trees. Together, we discover your treasures, sparkling mica in stream beds, fireflies on a summer night, the sweet song of the first bird of spring. We heal and grow in your soft breeze and warm sunshine. We connect to each other over meals provided from your bounty, under the protective canopy of your rustling leaves. Step by step, deed by deed, we make our community a better place. I see the world through his eyes, I see people through his eyes. And I thank you, for the gift of this vision.

I sit quietly, cross-legged, hands on my knees. Cool grass below me, heavens above. With eyes closed, I feel your truth. From the crown of my consciousness, I travel the network of connections, from me to you, between every living thing, between every atom in the universe. I can feel us spinning through space, a balanced top in gravity's embrace. We are one.

Gratefully,

Yours