Welcoming Earth

This earth beneath my feet, feels cool and sturdy. It tells me that I am welcome here. I have trod this same earth since childhood, and the earth has become my companion. It tells me to rest, to not worry much after any new wave or truth, which may as well be a lie, for the earth wants me only to stay and to be satisfied. New adventures are not needed, as long as the old ones of my youth are replayed. The earth will tell me of the old ones and remind me that if I venture out, my adventures may not be as forgiving and nostalgic as the ones the earth loves to recount. Fear, then, slowly instilled in my heart, comes from the earth. I shouldn't, couldn't...dare not try, for it would be unlike me, unlike my people, unlike what I and this earth have always known.

I'm not sure at what point the earth ceased to be a friend and began acting as an enemy, silently plotting against me with it's dark, sweet smell and it's inviting richness. Perhaps, my friend, the welcoming earth is not so altruistic in it's motive to keep me close, to determine that my feet stay planted on it's soil. Perhaps the earth is more like a friendly captor, who whispers kindly for me to stay, but thinks nothing of the dreams in my heart, or the plans which have been so lovingly prepared for me.