She’s a sassy, hip-shaking, soul-bearing, red-lipstick-wearing temptress.
She’s a sweet, playful, & frolicking being singing sweetly in the idyllic meadow.
She’s a big-breasted, tender mother wrapping me up sweetly in her arms.
She’s a wise, old crone welcoming her precious death.
She whips me into shape. She teaches me not to complain, but rather to raise my vibration so high as to only emanate love and therefore only attract love.
She pushes me up against my edge. She whispers to me to jump. Then she laughs when she knows that I can’t turn back around because, let’s face it, I’m in love with her and she’s always right.
She pins me down and pulls me apart. She rips me to shreds and then mends me in minutes as she wraps me up in love and soothes my frazzled nerves.
She’s a mighty ocean when I feel small.
She’s a bright light when I feel dark and moody.
She’s an intuitive nudge when I’m patiently listening.
She’s a warm patch of earth when I am tired and need rest.
She’s a gorgeous spring spewing forth the purest waters and when I trace the spring back to its source, I find her, nestled in my womb.
I am her child and she sings her soul’s song through me.
Her song says, “Soften. Open. It’s only me dear.”