Father Earth
There's a two-million year old man
No one knows.
They cut into his rivers
Peeled wide pieces of hide
From his legs
Left scorch marks
On his buttocks.
He did not cry out.
No matter what they did, he held firm.
Now he raises his stabbed hands
and whispers that we can heal him yet.
We begin with bandages,
The rolls of gauze,
The unguents, the gut,
The needle, the grafts.
We slowly, carefully turn his body
Face up,
And under him,
His lifelong lover, the old woman,
Is perfect and unmarked
He has laid upon
His two-million year old woman
All this time, protecting her
With his old back, his old scarred back.
And the soil beneath her
Is black with her tears.
*Found in Matthew Fox. The Hidden Spirituality of Men. 182
Prfoundly relevant, bringing forth a healing of our hearts from comprehending the sacrifice of these Two Elders. In my heart I begin anew. With our loving, tender hands together restoring our planet to its original splendor, we revive Earth and Gaia before our time runs out.
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