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Mother Earth Father Sky
by Isabel Lopez
Hear my heartbeat.
When it runs out of time it will never run out of life.
It will be present through eons of pulses.
No social construct or colonized existences will ever take away the humanity that still beats through the airwaves of Father sky
and the roots of Mother Earth.
These entities do not exist to take up space but to hold it’s
We were meant to grow without a sense of limitation.
Does not even compare to the western ward occupation.
They both laugh at the idea that men choose to believe that they can own land as if they invented the idea of spaces,
that every atom is subjected to monopoly.
That when it bends and folds into new elements, every second, its only value is to become a wasteful product.
You cannot put a price on life.
Going as far as to name the stars without being in touch with the expanding stardust we are all made out of.
When you look around into nature,
You realize Blue and Green are not just colors,
they are signatures “I loves you” from the sky and earth.
A beautiful base to curate the fruits of their love,
abundances examples to learn from.
From the traveling waters that touch the north to the south of the globe to the ecosystems that maintain their balance.
The Sky and Earth do not hold their elements to be defined as a commodity. Our ancestors’ practices were taught through the balance of their duality.
Always humbling to stay quiet in the presence of the greatest teachers in life.
The language of our heartbeat spoke with the same whisper.
Present in the roar of the seas.
The breath one makes once you’ve made it to the mountaintop.
The same air that sways between the trees.
So when this way of life was threatened it was impossible for us to go existing.
The sky and the earth still replay our heartbeat songs,
remembering the years when these hymns would echo on within the next generation.
So when the white man came to try and proclaim their ways onto the land they will never understand the extent of these spaces.
The Earth and the sky already had their arms wide open to the lineage of our people.
Stories imprinted into the sky, guiding us like the north star to the songs,
that we carry on.
Even after the attempt at genocide, we are still here,
more than just alive.
We are living spirits of Father Sky and Mother Earth,
because we dared to root our humanity into nature’s embrace,
because we dared to write poetry as our creation stories,
because we dare to believe in an essence that cannot be defined by man-made measurements.