Black Dirt White Skull
Was it a dim recollection of a dream? Or had she been ambushed, betrayed? She lay swaddled in a casket of earth. Her consciousness a gallery of knowledge, a library of herstory that was returning like bees to a hive. The buzzing a harmonic of rebirth. As she stretched the ground quivered. As she yawned the ground began to crumble. As she exhaled she altered the geography of the planet.
They had stolen her glory, her antlers and left her to die. Yet an immortal spirit knows no death, only transition. A moment of greed took eons to restore and their day of reckoning would be the inheritance cursed upon their progeny.
She rose altered. Flesh tithed to the Mother Goddess. Bone bleached by the sun and kissed by the moon. She rose with redeemed strength a hybrid of her bestial form. She embodied the signatures of another Triple Goddess unity, Flora, Fauna and Mineral. Her torso was cast in black grave dirt polished smooth by the elements. She was adorned in a skirt spun by the spiders who had held vigilance over her dormancy protecting her in her most vulnerable state. Branches replaced the antlers stolen, these gifted by the ancient White Lilac who had witnessed the brutal attack. Hence the purple dawn of a new era had begun upon the Earth.