Have you seen our Mother?
Have you seen our Mother? When she sees all her little children running to her she opens her gigantic arms and gathers us up like chicks. Back in her arms again, worlds appear, disappear, and reappear upon the rise and fall of her breasts. Her honey milk flows and flows and we are nourished. It tastes so sweet.
Trees spontaneously spring from her, for she is a tree of life to all those who embrace her. And those who embrace her are blessed indeed. Guardian oaks grow from her shoulders—pillars of strength for her children. Her breasts are orchards full of fruit for every single one of her little ones. Golden apples tumble from her armpits. Delicious fruits fall into our little pink mouths. The rust-red madrone of her calves is as smooth as silk for sliding down from volcano peaks through green and gold hillsides. She laughs brilliant, red, succulent pomegranates and you can see her bright teeth are flowering dogwood. Her womb, our warm red bed. And her skin??? A black night with stars illuminating each feature, The moon, is her beauty mark.
Do you smell the scent of our Mother? That intoxicating scent of cinnamon and gardenia flying from her skirts as she moves upon her sandy shores, leaving footprints of frankincense and myrrh. Aloes spring up in the wake of her footsteps. When it is dark we can still find our way by smelling her trail. Smell the cedar? Smell the pine? Smell the redwood? The jasmine, the lily, the rose…Smell the sea?
From the “The Moon is Her Beauty Mark “
Shiloh Sophia McCloud