...Dark Mother

‘I am that which is your bones, teeth, nails and hair ...your skin dark or fair ...no difference does it make to me ...for you are one ...in all ...in me.
         When the element air wafts through your hair it lifts my leaves and blesses them with coolness or rips at them with taloned fingers pulling them from their last clinging, to their near dormant tree ...until falling, falling they land on my skin and become in their rotting ...one with me again. Mould spoors and fungi are born from their dying ...small pelts of furry mosses cover my body and lift tiny star faces to their larger shining siblings above ...to bathe in starlight ...moonlight then closing, nestle deep within the fronds of ferns to hide from the face of the blinding one's glare.
         When the element of water, pours it's silver weight on the boughs of my trees or pools in earthy furrows, before breaking loose; gushes ...thrillingly, mindlessly joyful, in their rush to reach a larger blending of their sweet and salty siblings. Always moving...never still unless; caught by the great Blinding One in a puddle of my muddiness; they too grow over with slimy algae and frog spawn. Water becomes earth ...the rest seeping ...oozing down, down deep within my body, quenching my thirst for moisture and germinating seeds that have lain dormant beneath my skin ...like a minor itch to scratch they break the surface and are nurtured by the Blinding One until they stretch their new limbs to Him in supplication ...greening in His light.
         When the element of fire...an off shoot from the blinding one breaks loose upon the earth all flee in fear of His heat ...and yet again deep within my hardened crust new life awaits the greening. The life force within all things is akin to this fire …hungry to grow …no fear of change; more fearful that they will not; yet nothing remains stagnant or still for long …when even on the stillest day, my skin is rock hard and burning to your feet …a cool breeze can lift the heaviest hair from sun drenched, sweat-salted skin …there you have running from your pores, your kindred the ocean, of which you are a part; pooling in the furrows between your breasts or running down your face from soaking hair.
         When you cut me I bleed just as you do ...I spill my guts to you in rich black oils, full of the fossilised bodies of my many selves ...my trees run red with gooey resins and sap, runs in translucence through pliant stems, just as your skin runs red with blood when cut ...and no different to your lymph fluids, that lubricate your innards ...all are the blood in my veins; the plasma deep within my seething molten core ...hot …red ...pulsing, like the blood that rushes through your heart ...oxygenated by the element of air; pumping the fiery heat, animating your limbs, your brain, your nerve endings ...helping you breathe, to smell the aroma of your environment ...and the fluids of saliva run, to taste the sweetness of the bounty of my body or the bitterness of your own destructive ways...
         ...and so all is one through all the bindings and blendings of these elements; no two operate in isolation ...so why would you think you are alone or separate or different to them in your being ...they all run through you, as they do through me ...and then Great Goddess animates us all ...yes, even I have come from her …Primordial One ...listen, listen and awake!’