Mother Earth senses
When it comes,
Her quest for self-renewal
Never ceases.
No man may prompt her
She simply knows
And does in her time.
Her mystical powers
Of self-combustion
Clear out the remnants and ruins of life
Anything that prevents her growth.
She does not discard
Leaving them to pile up and crowd her skin.
Heat and spark burn away the garbage,
Violently.
The filth, the discard,
The dead and decaying.
It burns
Urged on by the winds of change
This way and that
In order to ignite everything.
We can do nothing
But watch the flames
And absorb the view.
We inhale the smoke,
Wipe away the ash
Witnessing only the signs of change.
Mother Earth wrapped in smoke
Like a cocoon,
Evolving.
Ready to reveal in her own time.
Through this destruction
She does not remain in ruin.
Her charred skin
Births new life.
If only we could remember
When covered by the discard and the decay
How to set ourselves aflame
Reborn from the blackness
And remember
We are made of her
The power of this woman
Is the power within our own bodies.
--Lyndsey M., Adult
