The Ancient Mother Divine

by Christos Polydorou

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She calls us from across
space. She calls us from across
time. She calls us and the stars
shatter. She
is

the ancient mother
divine.

Her

blood runs through our
veins. Her memories are lost,
at the tip of our tongues. She is the reason behind
enigma. She
is

the ancient
mother divine.

Because of her,
the trees are sentient,

and the birdsong audible grace
because she blesses it.

Her tides rise the seas,
and shoots the lava though
the mountain,

unless we eternally
please her, with tiny
rituals and gestures. Of
which we cannot deny.

She creates the circumference
of our moral centre.
The little voice within us that warns us
when we have had too much wine.

You may not
neglect
her authoritative wisdom.
She is
the ancient mother
divine.

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