You remember those days,
warm in the early morning
but with a trace of night dew
still carried in the breeze,
sitting alone by the water
realizing you are never alone.

It is part of you.
The sea is your blood.
The wind is your breath.
The rock is your bone.

All gods are one.
All men are one.

We stand by the pool
of watery moonlight
watching, weaving,
waiting for Ragnarok.

We flow, anointing the earth,
swimming in the sea,
flying in the wind,
sculpting in the rock.

We are daughters and sisters,
lovers and healers.
We are mothers of the one
and the all.

We are the fertility
of imagination and destiny.
We are the keepers of fire
and water, rock and ice.

We are the scent of lilacs
and lilies, pumpkins and
apples, bistort and sage.

We are women.
Solitude does not exist.