She's hard to spot between and behind the naked branches of my tree this Waning Moon morning.
She reminds me of my Mom, and a deep sting of grief and missing hits me with a punch so hard it takes my breath away for a moment there in the frozen air.
I raise my vibration and lift my chin and sing a hymn to the Mothers who have survived before me to make me who I am.
An heir to their journey and lOve. Regardless of any outcome and any past.
It has been made complete. It has been honored.
The Women in me make the Woman I am.
I am lOve in love in motion.
I am Woman.
Thank you Mom ❤ You are missed ❤