Erin Antoch | Staff Writer
You are of the Earth.
The hands that sculpted the stone of Machu Picchu
and stirred the violets and indigoes of the Northern Lights
also created you.
You,
with veins that stretch and weave throughout your body
like rivers cutting through a barren landscape,
and blood like the icy currents that rush within those valleys.
You,
with freckles few or many
lightly sprinkled atop your skin
like the crescendo of constellations
painted in the sky each night.
You,
with stretch marks and scars telling stories on your thighs
like the strong lines on the trunks of trees;
stories of growth and change
and perseverance through harsh seasons.
You,
with eyes of sparkling oceans;
with eyes of melting caramels;
with eyes of deep forests;
or eyes reflecting the Earth itself;
galaxies of thoughts and ideas and dreams
expand behind your deep blues and greens and browns.
You are of the Earth.
You are of the water and the sun and the rocks and the stars.