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Fife Writes

Jean Wright - Mother to all things

Mother to all things


The earth breathed in and she breathed out,

Then she listened,

Long ages had passed since she knew this quiet,

Not stillness,

Not - nothing,

Just the gentleness of life – living

She could hear the sweet song of every bird,

She could hear the soft creak of flowers opening to the sun,

The groaning pulse of growing trees

and the musical ripening of every fruit,

She could feel every drop of water,

From the tickle of woodland streams

to the continuous rhythmical massage of the oceans,

She sensed the life cycle of every living thing

she supported and nurtured from birth to death.

She had struggled for so long

with noise and poison and chaos,

And because few thought of her

she had begun to feel mythical,

and felt their belief waning,

Her balance had been disturbed

and there had been disharmony in her workings

as she began to give up.


But now, she could breathe again,

And she remembered her purpose,

Earth mother,

Life giver to all,

And as her awareness of all things

grew and deepened,

She felt her connection to them renew and strengthen,

And she thanked the universe for remembering her,

And giving her back her joy.


The earth breathed in and she breathed out,

And for now, she felt at ease.



                                                                                 Jean Wright

                                                                                 (Written during lockdown)

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