Oh, how I wanted you to last forever.
Oh, how I never wanted to leave.
The golden patterns rippling across the shimmering waters were magical. The soft clouds that encircled and dissolved me permitted me to melt into you slowly. Sweet scented iridescence perforated me, disintegrating me, and I merged into you. l felt like I’d become a core, integral part of you. This state of existence was so subtle and sublime that anything tethering me to our concrete constructs of destruction would only taint it, so I had to give it all away.
You murmured to me from beneath the grass as I dug my fingers into your moist dark earth, trying to ground myself, desperately trying not to slip away from everything again. You assured me that all I’d been seeking was already here, inside you, inside me. I was afraid you weren’t real, that your voice wasn’t your own, that you were mute, deaf, and dumb just like the rest of the surface dwellers believed.
I was frightened by a life I didn’t understand, forms and formless entities within and without me, which came before, still existed, and would continue existing after everything else was gone. I didn’t know I was missing anything, yet somehow, still, I felt a void within.
I felt you embrace me, though, that one day I finally chose to listen when you whispered to me through the cool breeze, rustling grass, bushes, and trees. There were barely any sounds, but I heard your echoing voice calling to me, soothing yet powerful, and I couldn’t resist. I wanted to know you, to be with you, but I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t know what to do, but you came and took me away.
When you swallowed me whole, engulfed me fully, the soil filled my lungs and throat. I felt like I was drowning, being buried alive. When you brought me down deeper into you, I let go, transformed, given new life, new breath, in a way I’d never even imagined possible. You, your world, your being, your essence, you filled me, deconstructed me, and drew every speck of my being back into you. We were together, reunited, and you showed me Earth as you were meant to be seen and known.
And it felt like home. More so than any other home I’d ever had. I was yours and you were mine. And I was whole, like you. With you. Together. Inseparable. Intertwined.
You showed me birth and decay, life and death, darkness and light, and how none of it is separate, none is right nor wrong, good nor evil. You showed me how all of it is part of you, of me, and of all of us who belong to you, belong with you.
Your touch, your scent, your existence was life itself, but you showed me that being alive meant dying eventually.
You showed me how you were dying, and I myself wanted to die with you, too.