The Abyss

I stare into the Abyss. It doesn't stare back. It's an Abyss. It whispers to me, though.

Earth Mother Blessing

May the laughter of the Earth Mother, whose exhalations tickle our hair and shiver the leaves, upon whose umber hills we dance for a moment, and in whose fertile bosom we rest for an eternity, be yours this day. There is time for aught else.

The Hand of Father Time

By his hand we receive this life
for he givith the day,
but minute by minute and month by month
his hand taketh away.
For these are the currency
by which we repay.