Art Gallery
Poetry
Oh thou glorious mother,
Enrobed in silver shimmering,
See how we kneel before thee!
We quake under your glories streaming.
The songs of your praises ring in our ears,
As we meekly bring forth our prescribed offerings
--Ourselves; body, mind and soul--unto you.
Oh goddess, appointed by thine own glory,
We come before you from our dwellings
So intimately situated to yours so you may
Keep your ever watchful gaze upon us.
Through all time, you shall sit upon your throne,
Immutable and reign over this, your domain.
creator, from you we came, made of your essence,
And still, you continue to provide for us,
Pourint your nectar into us till we shall have no more,
Covering us with your robes so that we may not be seen
Or touched by that which would take us
Away from you.
With you, we shall live in eternal quietness,
Our mouths are unable to voice true praise unto you,
Now and forever.
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