Man and His Mother, Nature

I always wanted to thank her for bringing me here "I will always love you, mother" as her son was born. My fearing eyes had blinked just once before they feel instantly and forever in love. I was vexed by my beautiful, my wild mother, enraptured by her mysterious perfection and struck dumb by the climbing, falling colors of a rainbow. They were spread across her face. The rich inner harmony of her birds that cried, winded through and around the air. Her body was a garden, fruitful and poetic. The glittering of her being was imprisoned on a shaft of sunlight. She was a stranger, but more glorious than any. She dared to be different. Her arms were warm and inviting. I was envious of, not only her valid beauty, but of her mind. It was a hurricane in its perfect power. Balance was her most important virtue. Her beauty made her powerful, and her power gave her love. She had never cheated anybody out of life, love, happiness, or anything. My mother gave her children the ability to think. The danger of that decision was her first secret. Anybody with the power to upset that goddess I'll have to kill. Yet, we do it without thinking. That is why we die in the end. I was reluctant to go. I was reluctant to face the darkness alone and kiss my mother goodbye. I was the measure of what a human being can be. And I always wanted to thank her for loving me.