wordswithmyself:

“there used to be places
greener than this one,”
my mother whispers to me.
it feels like a secret,
so i tighten my grip around her hand
so she can continue speaking.
“there used to be places
where the sun could barely shine through,
the trees were tall,
and their cover wide enough to
protect you from heavy rain.”

i squint at the ground.

the Green Place is all i know.
beyond that,
there is only sand and desolation. though rain can be scarce,
somehow we keep this place alive,
for it is our livelihood.

“women,”
Mother says,
“are bound to this earth.
from it we emerged
and to it we shall return.
it may not be now,
it may not be tomorrow;
but until then,
we shall protect it
and be grateful for this gift.”
i nod in understanding
and close my eyes.

sometimes i can see myself
giving a part of my soul
to this land
in order to one day
become a seed
and witness it becoming much more.
someday, i will witness it.

///

witness my rebirth / a.m.

day 4 of poetry writing month (April 4th, 2017)

prompt from @kaylamansi, requesting Furiosa and the Green Place (hope this is fine!)