Voices of the Grandmothers…

This is part of a larger work, but this one line speaks to me so.

“…the voices of the Grandmothers moving on the wind through the high branches of the trees…” ~Oriah Mountain Dreamer, “The Call”

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She Is

“She is our moon, our tidal pull. She is the rich deep beneath the sea, the buried treasure, the expression in the owl’s eye, the perfume in the wild rose. She is what the water says when it moves.”
– Patricia A. McKillip

When Women Were Birds

“When women were birds, we knew otherwise. We knew our greatest freedom was in taking flight at night, when we could steal the heavenly darkness for ourselves, navigating through the intelligence of stars and the constellations of our own making in the delight and terror of our uncertainty.” -Terry Tempest Williams

Inspirations | A Faery Song

“Soft moss a downy pillow makes,
and green leaves spread a tent,
Where Faerie fold may rest and
sleep until their night is spent.
The bluebird sings a lullaby, the firefly gives a light,
The twinkling stars are candles bright,
Sleep, Faeries all, Good Night.”

~ Elizabeth T. Dillingham, A Faery Song