* 1091 *
Mattriama is all in all, our Great Mother, and indeed, every man began as a woman in his mother’s womb till enhanced into a man – with some things gained and some things lost. We are her very flesh and spirit. When we love each other, when we love anything, we love her.
* 1092 *
God has a body, it is the universe. God has a soul, it is Ama. Mattriama is both combined, pregnant with herself, and her body contains all that is and all that is not.
Ama rides a lion, the blond beast, honey as sun, who makes no retreat. The lion yawns. Let light scatter what darkness loomed, let infant escape the night of the womb, the pre-philosophical cave of pure love and seeming, and gaze with the sun upon all that is, not merely to know, for knowing is a disguise until we reflect and then realize.
O sun-crested waves of darkest ocean, her mystery the deep starkest devotion! Ama the prankish laughs and delights to hide truth behind light, and love in the night.
Come Ama! You I adore. You are my This! I want nothing but more of you to surround me, nourish and fill, kiss me awake, cheer me with your silly rhymes and childlike amusements. Let us fuse here as one, devour each other, like flame wed to flame, like sister and brother, soul twin and twain, two I’s to one Self, you my cherished, gift of my wealth, and weal of my bones, my marrow and pulse, home of my own, my selfsame, my All.
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