Like a dancer on ice skates, Earth spins. Who knows how long her dance has lasted or will?
When I walk through the woods, I see that the path on which I walk differs from how it looked yesterday. Rocks appear today that weren't there yesterday. In some places the soil is dyer than it was. In other places, the wind has rippled sandy soil.
Earth moves. She's alive. Spirited.
Wind spirits Earth. So does water and fire.
No weak, demurring spirit is she. Her solid strength supports the weight of all. She bounds raging rivers and waterfalls and limits stormy seas.
And yet her strength is passive and receptive: She-
Absorbs all liquids, the heat of fire and Sun, and the cold of ice and snow
Allows herself to be blown by the wind and takes on wind's humidity and aridity
Hardens with dryness and softens with rain
Receives the remains of the slain
Earth gives her substance to the physical bodies of all:
Mountains, valleys, caves, and plateaus
Grasses, ivies, flowers, shrubs, and tress
Fish, bugs, animals, and birds
We all are her children: born of her through our mother's womb, nourished by her plants and animals throughout our life, and received back when we die.
We are kin.
We honor her when we live following her lead.
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