her prayer, my journey

if earth is cleansing herself, i hear her invitation to return to the isle,

her body quakes with a loud, low rumble

together, we ache in unison to grieve the scraping

of her skies, and i am

reminded of the escape of memory

that led me far from heeding her calls, calls of worship.

her winds whisper, worship me by worshipping you

if earth is cleansing herself, i accept her enchantments

to the unknown

where answers survive in the ancestral

foundations forming the crust of her skies and the clouds of her dirt.

she births me in a curious world and blesses me for all my curiosities.

she connects the moon to my womb

and the sun to my creations,

so i deify my predecessors, alive within

a daughter from a past life

the grandmother of resistance

my mother in pain

if earth is cleansing herself, i open my being to a transformation

her fires crackle with demands

for me to move towards the godliness trapped within my godlessness,

damned in the attachments of the soul, like failed affections,

her fires snap at me, release the burning freedom of spirit.

she demands, like i demand to glisten and glow.

if earth is cleansing herself,

i live and die, knowing

i beckoned her every cry, whisper, and melody.

early in life, i find my first breath,

baptized in a manifested moment

surrounded by her fleeting present.

she embraces me and i embody

the life emerging from her green depths, waves of existence flared.