Deathly still in the frosty night. A voice can be heard for all that know its secret. Beyond the droplets of water that bead on a leaf, and the wind that breaks them loose unto the damp earth. Even beyond the sound of frost and ice melting by warm sun rays in morning light. This voice is that of the Great Mother. Not a song or sound. But a whisper in your ear as you sleep. A feeling unexplained that hangs on the air. A word that cannot be uttered audibley. Of life and death, peace and pain, warmth and cold. Of tranquility and poison. All acts of Mother Earth, our eternal parent. Lover of all...