Lavender: the color of dreams swimming
in the unifying bowl from
which we all draw.
Lavender, she said, harvest at partial bloom
for when it dries it will open
to its most fragrant.
Lavender were the wands my mother taught
me to bunch together and weave
a ribbon through its stems.
About this poem: inspired and dedicated to Kathleen Hubert, Patricia DeSandro, and the Source; the mothers that have assisted me in making me who I am.
Respectively, my birth mother who put up with my mood swings and crazy stories. Who taught me that I am the only one that can make me happy, how to weed, enjoy gardens and accept gifts from the earth.
My spiritual mother who tested me and put up with me testing her in return. She gave me advice such asking “why not?” about everything, so I have a tool to battle my own judgement and ignorance regarding religion and values. She guided me past the restrictions of mundane reality to fully view the universe in all it’s splendor.
The All Mother, the Source: all things are ultimately inspired by Her.