Do you know her? Asks the feral child She’s the one who howls at the moon and will ask you to paint mud on her face. She’ll take you the wrong way up the mountain, but tell you she knows where she’s going while inviting you to sing songs to the butterflies. She’ll whisper secrets to the rocks, and they tell her jokes in return. Have you met her? Asks the uncertain maiden She’s the one who sits cross-legged at the dinner table, she throws her head back and cackles at what delights her. The nail on her big toe has bark & soil stuck in it from where she fell out of a tree. Her fingers smell of pleasure, whiskey, and fire. Have you seen her? Asks the young queen She's the one who collects old bones Spiders hang from her ceiling, Her eyebrows are not the same shape, She walks around wearing nothing but the mid-day sun, but only the few deemed to hold a sacred gaze are permitted to see. She breathes blessings and mythic tales into the growing bellies of soon-to-be mothers. Can you feel her? Asks the wild crone She’s the one who drums with her feet as a call to the Earth, and falls to her knees in prayer. She is fat like the salmon are when the bears sink their teeth in, piercing skin & flesh. She’ll drink rainwater that drips from her eyelashes and nose like its nectar and she’ll make you want to do the same. She is the youngest of the snake siblings. She is my daughter. She is my sister She is my lover, my muse, She is my mother, and my grandmother. Oh yes, You know Her.