When continents drift, mountains will crash.
Ablaze and distorted, the subduction of one feeds the callousness of the other; but
Beneath the volcanic surface of disdain lies a dying yet persistent love.
In the violent eruption from its abuse, this fragile kernel of love survives “me”.
The earth’s skin tears and the ocean’s water breaks.
From love’s cracks bleeds new continents to chart, new territories to traverse.
Rafting on rivers of red rock, we embark into new epochs of self, born-again from the gifts of the earth.