Cycle is eternal through magic made in mothering,
that grace of moon which echoes ancient fears,
celebratory sighing of the goddess in designing;
the form of woman follows through the years.
In wake of the Great Mother, and all who went before,
incarnated maternal, the feminine reborn,
so usually repeated, through aeons evermore;
clay bowl of womb, the border never known.
Natives roam the planet in female shape reborn,
glinting memory of souls, in heaven shining,
as maid becomes a mother, then grandmother in turn;
so does the flame of life keep ever burning.
Angels call the spirits from bright and shining stars,
turn the world material, like wood so finely carved,
each is born perfection, drawn to be as they become;
unique, bestowed and blessed – forever loved.
Rosalyn: eternal, cycle, magic
Jules: grace, moon, celebratory
Barbara: wake, follows, usually
Irene: border, natives, incarnated
Rick1: clay, shape, planet
Rick2: memory, grandmother, bowl
Stimmyabby: wood, flame, glinting