Gaia the Mother and the Tinderling, Elder of the Forest, meet in a field of high grasses. They discuss the ways of the world and the Mother’s many children who live upon it. The Elder tells the Mother of the health of his Forests, of the vastness of them, of the destruction of so many of them by her children the humans.

They discuss the balance of life on her cosmic womb, the Earth. They discuss ways to bring it back into balance: hurricanes and tsunamis, floods and storms and fires that will remind the humans to respect the Mother, while spreading and planting the seeds of the forests. After such storms there is always new growth, the land cleansed and made fertile by the waters and fires washing over it.

They wonder whether the humans will ever become wise enough, or unselfish enough, to learn to live in harmony with the land and all its inhabitants, their brethren born from the Mother, even when their own numbers are so great. But the Mother and the Elder have the wisdom of the ages, and know that in the end it does not matter.

The Mother and the Forest Elder will live on and on and on, long after the Mother’s many children have come and gone, those with wings, or fins, or hooves, or feet. Her children always go in the end, some faster than others. Such is the way of life. But she is fertile, and always brings new children into the world, because she cannot bear to see it empty of them.

Time is different for these beings, the Mother and the Elder, and this conversation lasts many generations of lifetimes for her children, but only one afternoon for them.

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Story Addendum July 2020

The story above was revised as an exercise in writing perspective, prompted by an online, fabulous, weekly writing group I’m currently attending. The original above was written in third person, a narrative of a story from an outside observer. Below it reads in the first person perspective, from the point of view of one the participants in the conversation. This was a fun exercise and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did revising it 🙂

The Conversation, Revisited

by Prettyflower Vale

I meet him, the Tinderling, Elder of the Forest, in a field of high grasses. I wish to discuss with Him the ways of the world and of My many children who live upon it.  He tells me of the health of His Forests, of the vastness of them, of the destruction of so many of them caused by My children, the humans.

We discuss the balance of life on My cosmic womb, the Earth. We discuss ways to bring it back into balance: hurricanes and tsunamis, floods and storms and fires that will remind the humans to respect Me, their Mother, while spreading and planting His seeds of the forests. Whenever We find need to unleash such storms, there is always new growth after. My land is cleansed and made fertile by the fires and waters washing over it.

We ponder whether the humans will ever become wise enough, or unselfish enough while their own numbers are so great, to learn to live in harmony with My land and all its inhabitants which are their brethren, born from Me. But they are so young still. The Forest Elder and I have the wisdom of the ages, and We know that in the end it does not matter.

The Forest Elder and I will live on and on and on, long after My many children have come and gone, those with wings, or fins, or hooves, or feet. My children always go in the end, some faster than others. Such is the way of life. But I am fertile, and I always bring new children into the world, because I cannot bear to see it empty of them.

Time is different for Us, their Mother and their Elder, and this conversation We have will last many generations of lifetimes for My children, though it will be but one afternoon for Us.

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