Acceptance 

Mother Earth receives her own,

The rain, the snow, the bitter herbs,

The leaves, the seeds, the trash, the dung,

The dead, the living,

Old and young.

All is one thing to her:

To be received.

Receptive is the way to be,

Accepting of yourself,

And all things and everybody as they are.

Then the beams from starlight gleams upon you,

And in such state of receptivity,

The Creative weaves on a magic loom 

A magic destiny,

Beyond what you would have forged for yourself,

And all that’s really left for us to do now

Is accept it.

-jenn