Friday, June 23, 2006


Years apon years I sought her-
child never born of mine,


Here. Now.
Alive in every blossom, born of soil and water.

Brought forth by another Mother,
Yet nurtured at my hand.


a winters sleep, my child,
cradled by the Land.


Blogger Peterson Toscano said...

Beautiful and so very moving. Did you take the photo too? Thank you for sharing this. It means a lot to me.

6:45 AM  
Blogger brittanicals said...

Hey, Peterson! I am honored to see you here, I have really been touched by your story and blog.

The photo is one of many of my garden. I hope to find time to post more. The poem is a song of my heart--I am the mother of four wonderful, much loved sons, from age seven to eighteen. With each birth and for some time there was a hope for a daughter. She was never to be.

But not having a daughter has forced me to seek my own space, to really need to manifest the feminine, so to speak. The primary way has been through my garden. I can dress her in all the pretty pastels and lacy textures that my baby girl would have worn, and "she" fills a space in my heart.

I am so thrilled to see you here! Thank you so very much for leaving this comment.

11:38 PM  

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