Sonnet to the Creatrix of all Worlds

I searched the great religions' occult ways

And arcane truths of the mystical elite

But found no living sustenance to embrace

Until I touched my head to Mother's feet.

In a room where space and time were meaningless

We moved to Her through a charged and pregnant air,

Lost in the moment of Her rapturous caress

Our life fulfilled to kneel before Her chair.

We knew not of the agony She endured

Absorbing the pain of our ego-driven race

In petty wants and appetites immured

We followed not Her evolution's pace.

Now Her body lies beneath the Tree

And She in stillness moulds our destiny.