Sitting and talking, Mother Earth confessed to me, that she wanted an abortion. Her voice was hollow and soft. I knew she was trying not to cry.

I don’t want this, she said.

But you have so many children already, what has changed?

Wind and rain escaped her face as she answered me,

If I could go back, I would not have done the same. I was young and foolish, proud and idealistic. Give a wise look at what I have created. I have failed these lives, she said, by not understanding what is now so apparent.

But there is some good in them, I argued.

She turned her head, her gaze looked past me to the other moons.

Finally, she asked. Will you come with me?

I will of course, I said.

Vast peace spread about; the quivering in her curves ceased. She was determined and comforted. I held her silky hands as she undid her children.

A great storm was made, the loudest and brightest I’d witnessed.

I held her as the rocks performed her will. Oh, what chaos lay beneath!

When Mother Earth opened her eyes, I saw that they had aged. Panic rose inside. Are you dying?

Her supple skin withered quick, her teeth browned. The whole of her began to twist as if she were tightening herself round her own womb. For a small moment, her blind eyes found me,

Do not be afraid, I am going to them. No! I cried. What will I do? There will be nothing left! She continued to contort. The storm worsened. I wept at her side.

At once, everything became quiet; except, there was a strange pulse beating in the air. The sound
forced its way into me, causing me to laugh aloud. I stared above and could feel the many shadows of
her flustered children. Below it caught my eye, because I had expected only dust and fragments.

She was rotating, my proud sister Mother Earth, with such beauty it took my breath. As I gave her my light and pulled her tides this way and that, I was struck to see that many of her children flourished.

They were swimming and drinking. A game of chase had begun in the desert. Through the forest trees, I heard their squeals of joy. I realized that hope for them had come at the price of the others.

Mother Earth had chosen; it was humans she destroyed.

Now it is a time of rich silence, a kingless era without great harvests. Without great wars. There is now only the humble that graze and climb, protecting their purpose.

A humpback

A quail

A lioness

I watch them in my light, and whisper to her in the waves my gratitude for her sacrifice.

***

About the Author:

Rana left the streets of Philadelphia for the sun-drenched byways of Los Angeles. She currently attends Antioch University where she is finishing her B.A. She spends her days studying, writing, reading, teaching, and working. Though Rana is not particularly clever, she is well known for her brevity.