Dearest Mother of Nine. The Tearer.
Let the sweet winds of change be gentle in my life.
Do not blow down the trees in my backyard.
Let me dance with the changes like ribbons do with the wind, in the sky.
Let me be prepared for what you will blow away,
and be ready for what you will bring in.
Be merciful with me, as I learn to unfold stiff arms
around things, situations, and people who no longer serve me.
Blow, with reckless abandon, the masks off of hidden enemies and secret plots.
Allow those that wish against me to have front row seats
to the victories and all the ire of my life,
as they lower their backs for me to walk!
My Royal Mother, the one whom they forget came here with me…..
I greet you.
we greet you!