These Are My People: Lydia Khandro
Dried brown leaves and gray branches of solemn cycle
ignite to become golden lakes of wild hip-deep depths
The Blue Ridge Mother bears twice the ritual witness
standing cool, wrapped in the garment of her ancestor,
cradling her Divinity with skirts raising winds of power.
Her hair halos with the light of life, love, and nurturing.
She is the Great Mother bearing her Winter-born in holiness