My mother is of the ocean.
She was pulled from its depths and
birthed onto our dry, cracked Earth.
Her roots spread,
wide enough to know the land,
to know her mate,
her blood, Earth blood
but wet as the ocean.
Here she taught us,
to be fluid and frenzied, roiling like the sea.
"Stay steadfast but know uncertainty."
When we're ready she'll let us go and
slip silently home.
Plunging head first back into her skin.
We'll stay wondering, watching the tide roll in.
Sea foam licking our limbs.
My blood, wet as the ocean.
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