THE EARTH REMEMBERS HER TEENAGE YEARS
How many times she almost destroyed herself.
How she was nothing but molten, constantly flaring, combustible—
how she just kept erupting
under the weight of her own gravity.
How alone she felt
in what she thought was the darkness
between herself and the galaxy that birthed her,
without even the moon yet for company.
How she beckoned every rock hurtling through space
to make a home of her.
How she cratered, even as she became more solid
and cooled . . . eventually.
How slow it all felt then, those millennia
which now seem only an instant, looking back
in awe of herself, of that unquenchable fire
still buried deep in her core.
How she watches us, the life she brought forth
despite everything.
How she forgives our own endless thrashing.
How she wishes (knowing already) it could be easier.
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