i think of how many years
you have been here
holding this prayer
of the hands that crafted you
so long ago
what did those hands
long for
what devotions and pleadings
infuse your form
and here you have stayed
ever present and watchful
a mother's station
you do not waver
receiving
souls yearning
rivers of prayers
given to your kind face and countenance
the imprint of accumulated askings
in the weathered strength
of one who shines divine
birthed by human hands
the infinite mother is called
to manifest form
that you might give us
once again
to ourselves
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