A woman is liquid because she flows. She carves arcs and curves br in the vessel she forms. She is moved by the moon. She is a fluent br br force that endures in all senses, for the world as it is without her br is not. A woman appears as earth and as air and embraces fire. br Her nature, like water, rounds, encloses, encircles. None can live br br without her. She is the unacknowledged strength of the world, truly br fundamental, essential in three forms, maiden, matron, and crone. br br In every direction we look all we see is material, and all we touch br we call mother. She is the principle beneath the constant motion br all things communicate. She is the river within stone, and the flow br br in what seems fixed. She is the first teacher, and the first lessons br of water are lessons that last: water creates as it destroys, destroys br br as it creates, and creates what it destroys. One who bears water br becomes water, and ripples in rivers and tides are simple signs, br deep and profound. Water embodies change and never changes, br br for a smooth surface marks prolonged and fluid craft, and she br wields the power wisely. A woman is liquid because she flows.