Vision of Leto
I recently had a vision of Leto I’d like to share with you.
She was draped in a cool gray veil that blended into the swamp dirt and water. Silvery mushrooms grew from various places where dirt clung and at the soil. As she came towards me she alternated between having clay streaked limbs or her lower body was serpentine twining through the fertile soil. A smell of lilies rose from her skin and breath, even as she wore a delicate crown of myrtle, and her eyes echoed a vastness of starry nights. Everywhere she stepped/slithered water rose up in little springs, cool spouts and healing hot springs, and there was the sharp scent of fiery methane in the air. Frogs lept before her and bees moved along oceans of flowers that grew along the waterways and swamps. She held a pot of honey in one hand that dripped in swelling ooze from its lip, in her other hand a bean stock shedding beans to the earth where the hands of the dead reached up to grasp them.
But oh she is beautiful, even as concealed as she is her face is luminous and pure, and her smile sweet. Mother of life in the most dank dark fetid of places, mother of generations living and dead.