To The Mother of All

O Blessed Mother, root and sky,

Whose breath commands the moon to rise,

In grove and hearth, we sing your name,

The One in many, ever the same.

From Gaia’s womb the rivers flow,

Through fields you walk where wildflowers grow,

You cradle stars, you stir the sea,

And yet, you rock a child on knee.

To every mother-mortal, divine -

Whose strength and love in branches twine,

You are the soil, the seed, the rain,

The joy, the birth, the sacred pain.

Brigid’s flame and Frigg’s wise hands,

Demeter’s tears upon the lands

They echo in your daily grace,

In every kiss, in every place.

You taught us cycles: wax and wane,

That loss will pass, and joy remain.

In woven hair and steady gaze,

We see the Goddess through your ways.

So may the wheel turn kind and slow,

With blooms wherever you may go.

Blessed be the path you tread

Our hearts, the altar where you’re led.