Mother Earth lies in her bed of dirt and tears. Eyes closed, she could almost have been mistaken for a corpse, but she takes one long, deep exhale and the illusion shatters. She slowly lifts her heavy eyelids to look at you as she lets out a sigh that could have carried the weight of the sky on it.
For eons, her face had looked as youthful as the day she had sprung from Chaos, a perfect reflection of the sun that hung in the sky she loved so dear. Now, however, she wore her age like a noose: wrinkles hung in folds off of her face, and bright, knowing eyes had turned dull with the suffering of ages that had played out on her flesh.
She gives another sigh, this one softer, as if she was losing breath with every second she struggled on. Vacantly she scans the sky, looking but not truly seeing the vast universe above her.
"It was once my generation who stood where they do now," she murmurs, and you are not sure if this is meant for you, but you decide to collect her last words with precious care. "We laughed at the idea of demise, we basked in eternity, we tempted the Fates, and look what has become of us now." The ground at your feet throbs ever so slightly, and for a second you see the Gaia of old pass across her face, resplendent and flourishing, but the moment quickly passes, and the earth settles.
"I tried to hasten their end once, you know," she continues quietly. "I sent my son to topple them off of that pretty little mountain they clung to so dearly. I thought they had had their time, you see." She looks as though she is about to cry, but even tears are beyond her now. "Had I known it was to come to this, I would have—I would have done so much differently. I would have changed so much." Her breathing is ragged and short and hazy. You lean down, not just to hear better what else her ancient voice has to impart, but so she does not feel alone in the end. On one knee, you feel better suited to declare vows of love, rather than ones of parting.
Their time has come, just as yours was meant to long ago, you whisper. The ground around where you kneel has erupted into poppies, the earth's blood finally being spilled in an overdue flood.
Eyes closed once more, and buried deep down into herself, receding into the earth below you, Gaia gives a pathetic, melancholic laugh. "But can you not see? My time will never come. It is my curse to watch them rise and watch them fall, to only watch as they create their own downfall and not to be able to do a thing to stop it." Every word now is obviously a strain, carried away almost entirely by the wind. You slowly rise, and look down sadly on the frail earth. The poppies are already wilting beneath you.
Her final words are almost gone before they leave her chapped, crusted lips.
"The earth is immortal."
