I am the wild arc of the earth's pulse,
untamed breath in the chest of everything,
ancient as stones, fierce as waves in rebellion.
I do not shrink or twist myself thin
for the comfort of lesser horizons,
I am boundless, unruly, rising.

Do not ask the ocean why it carves into cliffs,
or question the mountains as they lean into the sky.
They have earned their expanse,
with rocks and waters kissed by creation,
sighing in silent defiance.
I too am carved from something vast and voracious,
not meant to bow, not made to dissolve.

I shall not bargain for a lesser version of me,
a quieter current, a shadowed peak.
I am that blue abyss, fathoms deep,
where light and darkness make their truce.
I am that towering stone,
etched by storms that refused to relent.

My roots dig deep into the marrow of the earth,
my voice rises like thunder breaking in the hollowed sky.
To be boundless is my right,
to take up my space is my heritage,
to walk unburdened, unapologetic,
a force unmoved by soft-spoken disapproval.

So I declare, with spine straight as mountaintops,
with heart rolling in tides beyond tides:
I am here, irreducible and vast,
and I will not ask permission to exist,
to expand, to stretch, to surge.