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.