I lay upon the quiet creature’s back
Marbled shell my wild carriage into the murky emerald deep
Calling on my ancient kingdom to awaken
To rise from its slumber and greet me as the flowers would Demeter after winter’s last frost
Hair dancing in the wind, a crown of cattails and marsh reeds, falcon feathers fall around my shoulders
Thistle goddess, bristle goddess, weaver of the long grass mats
They call me the dark marsh mother,
The obsidian-eyed wild woman, blazing priestess of Apollo

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