Tide
She steps into the water carrying a world inside. Clouds bend low, listening to the rhythm of her breath. Every ripple writes another line of her arrival. Her body becomes shoreline, not quite sea and not quite land.
Root
She leans into muscle, bark, and stone as if they are elder kin. In the open field, her breathing keeps time with hooves and wind. Gestation stretches her toward everything she once touched lightly. What grows within her is the same force that fastens her to the earth.
