My years,

There was a time when Mother nature was the only one who made us realize what it meant to be something natural and inevitable.

Loving in a way where you were the moon that pulled me in, for there was no tide of mine that you could not control.

Loving in a way where my forests were never damp because you were there raining down upon me keeping me alive and green.

Loving in a way where the air that you pushed over my surface caused my survival, for it was something you did not even need to strive for but instead did freely and unaware of.

You were natural and did not need to try for your forces were the key to the doors of the seasons that the Mother had changing on an axis of persuasion and devotion.

You did her bidding as a content mastermind and I was the outcome of all of your work.

You painted me on a canvas with blue and green pastels and open-mindedly cascaded me across the oceans of blank space.

And every storm that you raged against dragged me with you.

It was inevitable to make my trees fall and my tides rage for you made me spin on your axis of persuasion.

If I lost a tree or control of my tides it would not compare to how much my environment would fail without you there to keep my habitat in motion.

Until the moment of evolution came where I bid farewell to your control and realized there was a desert of emotion calling my name.

In that desert were creatures that thrived in that environment of the hot waves of freedom.

Which is where you find me today, free from the control of your movement and presence.

But believe me when I say I still look to the moon and think of the pull you once had over my oceans,

And I think of the rain you gave me to keep me thriving,

And the air that you gave me to keep my canvas bright.

For in this desert I came in hopes that you would evolve into your own state of concsienceness.

And in this desert I remain until you come to draw in the sands of time that make you reflect on someting you used to believe in.