3.4
October 25, 2015

When the Earth Speaks.

™ Pacheco/Flickr

“Create,” she said.

 

Crouching down, I touched her.

My skin against her damp earth.

I whispered, “I don’t know what to do?”

I whispered, “I don’t know who I am?”

 

“Create,” she said.

I whispered, “What?”

 

“Create,” she said.

I whispered, “Why?”

 

“Create,” she said.

I whispered, “I am too tired.”

 

“Create,” she said.

I whispered, “You don’t understand.”

 

“Create,” she said.

I began to cry.

 

“Create,” she said.

I whispered, “I don’t know how.”

 

“Create,” she said.

I fell silent.

 

“Create,” she said.

I closed my eyes.

 

“Create,” she said.

I whispered, “Will you help me?”

 

“Create,” she said.

I picked up a pen and with a shaky hand I started to write the story of my life.

 

“Create,” she said.

And I realized, creation was what I had been doing all along.

 

“Create,” she said and I replied:

“I am. I am. I am.”

~

Relephant Read:

For the Creative Souls who Hide Themselves.

~

Author: Sarah Norrad

Editor: Toby Israel

Photo: Mark Rain/Flickr (more from Mark here) // ™ Pacheco/Flickr

~

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