Her eyes belong to the god of green,
And every time she blinks the hue pinned
Inside pierces her iris. Her hands,
However, work for the god of metal.
His ribcage slides ahead
Down the assembly-line.
Now and then she loves to rub her Gods
Together, always resulting in
Red eyes. Do you notice how your lights
Tend to turn green, remembered with eyes closed?
An ancient drop of ink becomes red?
They left her the world in that testament.
And a mower rusting in the grass,
A shovel aplomb near the fountain,
A gnome asleep below the window.
We, the co-editors, contributors, and advisers, have started the Mago Web (Cross-cultural Goddess Web) to rekindle old Gynocentric Unity in our time. Now YOU can help us raise this torch high to the Primordial Mountain Home (Our Mother Earth Herself) wherein everyone is embraced in WE. There are many ways to support Return to Mago. You may donate to us. No amount is too small for us. For your time and skill, please email Helen Hwang (firstname.lastname@example.org). Please take an action today and we need that! Thank YOU in Goddesshood of all beings!
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