The First Mother
Published in
Dec 9, 2021
A poem
I am bathed in the blood of the first mother.
The serpent of her uncoils within my womb, releasing a sweet elixir of knowledge.
She draws spiral upon my hands; she pierces my third eye with diamond light.
I offer my heart, this white rose, at the altar of my becoming.
I bask in remembrance of origins divine.
