When we are born, we are not flesh. We are born in thought, born within the beginning of a word. A simple concept. For our parents, it may be a name, a code word, or the slip of a smile across pressed lips, but for the world, we are but an echo of her thoughts.

First, there are the thoughts. The fire our parents breath into us, first the kindling of their emotions, then the large pieces of logs and branches that are their personalities intertwined. The mindsets. Those? Those come from the Earth where Gaia spreads her arms open wide, lifts up our tiny ethereal essence and breathes meaning into us before setting us upon the forming flesh.

Then she sets fire to our hearts at our first breath, to make sure we are alive, to make sure we are no longer connected to her so we might be curious and meander on her "man-made" trusses and brown soils so we might travel a bit. We might move the things she cannot, transform them and will some sort of new purpose into them as we are small gods and goddesses, playing on her playground while she lights the fire of our hearts.

Still, we press on. We guide her new children, the ones we believe to be our own into life and they help gently lay us to our graves when our flesh is spent.

Then we drift up, a collection of new information, of new ideas and she cycles us back into the fray, picking small ideas or thoughts she might like from us to plant into a new spirit that she has molded from us then give it breath and return it back to the Earth.

She is our eternity and we are her children.

As she breaths life into us, so shall we breath it back into her.

She is our Eden.