Your hair becomes a tangle of
green vines and wheat and sweet blossoms
of undefined fruit.
Your arms embrace the sky as
Terra is eternally begotten anew,
ever-emerging from Your boundless womb.
In rapture You call forth life
and without You all would be barren.
I call upon You with many-sided names;
You answer with your rainbow-colored smile.
Your garden grows (or sleeps) What do you see in the growing? What do you see as potential?
In the Name of the All-Mother: I will complete a project today.
Terra Mater, Mother of all life. I give
Thee thanks for Thy blessings–
the fruit of the vanes;the fruit of my spirit;
By Galen Gillotte