    She wore no clothes, because there were no clothes.  Her nakedness 
was natural, and the air was warm and the breeze gentle.  It flowed over
her and warmed her.  As she stood in the clearing she did not wander, but
stood still, looking and waiting.  She waited for no one, and patiently
at that, for there was no rush for her to move on.  Her hand reached out
and tore a leaf absently from a nearby bush.  She felt its coolness in
her hand and traced its curves and ridges with her fingers.  She had no
inhibitions, and felt no guilt in the action.  She tossed it away, its
wonder forgotten and stepped into the sunlight, feeling its warming 
touch and letting it flow over her body.  Her innocence was pure and she
knew not right from wrong.  The forest around her was not quiet, but its
immensity absorbed any sounds.  
    Some sounds cut through the quiet serenity of the forest.  The wild
held its symphony of chirps and howls that hummed in the background against
the rush of a sudden harsh wind in her ears.
    Her hair flowed and was unkempt.  Its dark color whispered in the wind,
freely behind her.  The wind had kicked up, stirring leaves that had fallen,
and died, and tousling her hair even more.  
    The clear blue heaven was spotted with clouds, that became more scattered
until its pattern darkened the sky and beckoned a storm to brew.  As the 
first signs of rain began to fall, she looked to the heavens in disbelief,
gathering herself and rushing off, barefoot, into the wood.  Through spotted
tree, and gathered wood she ran, towards a dark shelter far off that she saw
not as she ran, but when she had almost stumbled upon it.
    The cave kept her from the rain, but its dank air and dark shadows 
stopped her from any hope of remaining there for the night.  Soon the rain
broke, and the sun sliced through the clouds, lighting the earth, and drying
the ground and trees.  Her skinned dried quickly in the warm sun, and her
hair was cleaned by the rain and dried.  She felt refreshed, and walked along
in the forest, now unhindered by the threat of rain.
    The shade of the trees was cool on her back, the rain having extended the
trees upward to catch a drink.  As she leaned on a tree for support, she felt
the rough bark against her hand, a scratchy surface that seemed to radiate
the strength of the tree.  Her eyes wandered in their clear vision across the
horizon, as she scanned the area.  
    He approached quickly, and she knew he was coming from the rousle of the
leaves.  He, too, was unclothed, but it did not surprise her, as it was
natural and pure.  When he came to her, she welcomed him.  The sex was cold
and mechanical, and she got no pleasure from it.  It was an event, and her
mind quietly noted it, tucking it away until she wished to recall the memory.
As he left, disinterested in her now that he had seeded her, she did not
watch him go, or long for his company.  
    To ease the passing of the day, she slipped into a shallow stream, cooling
her body, and easing the tension from her muscles.  Its soothing touch
caressed her.  Its cold tingle lingered.
    After rising from the pool, she again felt refreshed and anew.  The bank
seemed inviting, and she layed herself onto the grass, and slept deeply.
    When she awoke, the light was gone.  The darkness frightened and intrigued
her, and she curled up, drawing her legs to her chest, watching the still
night.  With watchful eyes that sparkled in the full moonlight, she caught
the first glimmer of light beyond the far bank of the stream.  Its growing
light puzzled her, but her fear kept her still, waiting.
    When the light became nearly too bright, it then died away into the same
darkness.  
    Another sound, the rousle of leaves, and he was upon her, another, not
the one from before.  He was different, seemingly helpless, but she tried
to comfort him with what she could.  He was shaven, his face wore no beard.
He wore clothes, but she could not see them in the darkness.  He bled, his
blood was wet against her body.  She held him close, trying to cover him
from harm.  She had never felt love, and this was new to her.  Her tongue 
tasted his blood, and she kissed him.  He was weak, and returned her
affection as best he could.  Lying helpless on the bank of the stream, they
slept the darkness away.
    The sun had warmed them in the morning.  She carried his body to the
stream.  The blood caked and broke up, disappearing into the stream.  She
bathed his wounds while he lay quiet, watching her.  He never spoke, nor
did she ever use her voice, but they told each other the pains of their
life, and the sorrows.  
    After he healed, they walked to the far bank, and he showed her the
charred pit from whence he came.  Its smouldering crater had already begun
to heal with the land.  
    They shared the forest, and the stream, until he
died.  She felt no sorrow, because she still felt him nearby, somewhere
beyond the sight, on the edge of vision, in a world she could not see.  The
land changed, and so did she, but she lived a long time.  Before her death,
she birthed a child that spawned creation, and the worlds thereafter.  Even
after death her face was cut into the land, and her name was Earth.


