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May 2011
There she stands,
In the midst of Space,
God Herself is here.
Great Mother of all,
The sacred Womb,
From whom we all have come.
Robes of Darkness,
Deepest Night,
All stars shine from it.
A thousand suns,
A million lights,
Upon Her sacred skirts.
In Her Pleasure,
Life conceived,
A child is born today.
A baby girl,
A wild one,
Young Nimue coming forth.
In the midst,
Of darkest Night,
A little girl comes forth.
Nimue's seen,
Beneath the skirts,
Peaking out at us.
Slowly stepping,
Out to us,
From her Mother's sacred skirts.
Bethany Lorekeeper Davis
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