Her lips hiss truth, not like a sword, like a serpent
A still, small voice as big as the sea
Her hips carry suffering, not like a cross, like a cradle
The infinite weight of the world bears She
Her breasts nourish nations, not with meat, but with milk
At our cry, raining down in a flood
Her thighs part the shadows, not by force, but freewill
Wisdom gained by experience and blood
Her hair blankets brokenness, not like a cast, like a quilt
She wraps in a consuming fire
Her hands dropping stars, to come to rescue and save
Lifting Her children up higher and higher
Her all-seeing eyes seek connection, not scorn
Unearthing raw empathy
Her navel soft and strong, not one creation is lost
Stretches wide as eternity
