“There is also another mother….You walk upon
her body. Her breasts grow your food. Her spirit is Nature. If you listen, you
can hear her words carried by the wind. She says, ‘You are my daughter. You
live with me.’ She spreads a cape of ferns, primroses and daisies around your
shoulders. Your wounds suck healing salve from her cape. She is patient. She
turns anger into poetry and grief into song. She is an alchemist of ages, wiser
with each passing. She does not demand conformity. This mother is always
tending and teaching you.”~ Louise M. Wisechild, The Obsidian Mirror
Painting by Elisabeth Slettnes
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