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Imagine for a moment that humans are the children of Mother Earth,
We spring from a well deep inside her heavenly body...
If so, Woman has inherited the blessing of Her landscape,
The curvature of the hills worn of centuries of slow motion...
The still frame of the tree of life and the voluptuous fruits it has borne...
The relief of a desert, its curves molded by a steady, elemental wind...
The rockface of a waterfall, smooth and fluid, giving to the will of the river.
Clay
Sand
Rock spend a quiet afternoon, or an eternal twilight
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