The Grid (I)

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Prologue

The Great Grandmother sits
At the source of creation
Weaving a grid of paths crossing
Reflected in the short-lived moment
Of a raindrop held gently in her web
Once in a while
The sacred mystery
Of her many daughters is revealed
Before they evaporate
Like raindrops under a glaring sun
And the secrets of their lives
Are once again concealed
In an ordinary human form

~

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