A small circle of women on a back patio,
overlooking garden and gully. Trees, a view
of mountains. A warm afternoon in early autumn.
We have known each other so long,
all the thoughts we speak are welcomed.
We reach up to Divine Mother, down
to Mother Earth, with love and gratitude.
Meditation, chanting, prayer. Then tea
and cake and talk. I look around and realise
we are all poets. It seems a natural thing.
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