Parallel Universe — She Is

Michael once asked me what I would tell people in another universe about the Earth. How I would describe it to them, tell them about it’s colours and it’s properties and the people it holds.

And that was when I stopped him.

“The Earth is not an it, Michael, she is much more than that.”

“Then tell me,” he replied, a light sparkling through his eyes, “write it all down, paint me a picture. I am not from here. Not even close. I am outside your realm, beyond your dimensions, I don’t know what an Earth might be. Tell me about her.”

“The first thing you should know,” I began softly, “is that the Earth moves.”

“How does she do that?”

“Please, no questions until the end, thank you.” Michael winked at me.

And then I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to do her justice. By the time evening hit, the sky dipping from day to night, I handed Michael a piece of paper.

“This is what she is.”

She is a mother, first and foremost. There is nothing she would not do to protect her children, nor could they have ever been more loved. She has seen things, things that make her a little wiser, a little softer. Understanding, kind, forgiving, she is a mother, first and foremost.

She is also a home. Loyal and constant and secure. Where people belong, in her grasp, between her arms, to be loved and cherished and to be reminded just how important they are. She is the sigh of relief to those who finally return after a long day of work. She is that proud smile to those who have made it into their own. That’s her. She’s a home.

She’s opportunity, possibility, even as much as a dream. She is believed in, she is looked after and she is the origin of all that has ever been wanted. There is nothing she cannot offer, there is nothing she cannot do. She is powerful, wonderful; she is truly one in a million.

But sometimes, she is blue.

Not the blue of the ocean, where diamonds are seemingly scattered forever.

Nor the blue of the sky, where infinity can finally touch the stars.

She is the kind of blue that slips into the shadows. The shade that only sadness requires. Because, honestly, it can get a little too much for her, sometimes. Like the world is turning on her, sending her spinning, collapsing into the sun.

Her children often ignore her, forget her, they don’t really notice she’s there.

A home not always maintained. Maybe there’s dust collecting somewhere.

Opportunities not always taken, dreams that are mistaken for nightmares.

The truth is that sometimes she is not always appreciated for everything that she does.

But no matter what, she is beauty. Amongst her blues are the brightest shades of green. She is a reflection of light, a window to the universe, unique within all that there is. And despite what brings her sadness, she keeps moving. She keeps turning, spinning, rotating. She moves through the days and the nights, the summers and the winters, constantly going, never stopping, not once.

Because she is a mother, first and foremost. She is also a home. She’s opportunity, possibility, even as much as a dream.

She is the Earth.

And against it all, the Earth moves on.

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