She was an Empress.
Though her womb burst forth
ideas,
creations of glory,
and foundations of praise,
it was in the garden of her mind
that she flourished.
She weeded.
She nurtured.
And from her tending
blossomed a bouquet of freedom.
She sat with it,
ran her fingers across each petal,
claimed the magnificence
of all she had engendered.
And from the wellspring of her tears,
not of sorrow,
but of joy
and gratitude
for her own becoming,
she danced
in the waterfall
of the Divine.
Her truth was verdant,
her abundance more plentiful
than the plumes of grass beneath her feet
and the leaves adorning
fresh skies.
She was Queen Mother,
masquerading as Maiden Auntie.
For in this incarnation,
she and Creation
were friends,
lovers,
and kin.
