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The healer strove to mark the place
to walk with heart in hand. 
She placed her foot upon the path
and walked ‘pon ochre sand.

Her head was high, her gaze direct
the path before her steep;
to her goal with chattering teeth
the healer’s eyes did keep.

She went within the darkness deep,
earth's core she did explore;
with heart hearth lit and good intent
she visited earth's core.

The Mother had oft seen her there
and gifted her each day,
with lava, light, and wet warmth
the Mother watched her play.

Still, now the healer knew the truth,
a truth she must absorb.
Father lived in hearths held on high,
He was another force.

And, if the healer was to grow
help others come this way
she must go forth, rise, absorb
the upper light displayed.

With trembling lips and fearful sighs
on she purposefully strode, 
this child of clay, of lava formed,
to Father’s bright abode.

And, as she rose above the clouds
into the firmament
she lost her shape, as child of earth
gained oneness in ascent.

No boundaries now held her form
except His loving grace,
this cherished child of mud, of clay;
she took her solemn place.

“Light or Dark, neither good nor bad,”
a choice the Father said.
a place for all, a purpose too
and lessons learned instead.

So, the healer turned to earth
upon that golden day. 
She’d learned the joy of dark and light
found wholeness, in this way.

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