The mothers line

I want to know and understand the secrets of the past who now lie hidden to the world 

My great grandmother I only knew in myth and a single faded photograph.

Bees came to her and did commune in a way defiant too all common knowledge.

Her fine instincts where attuned to a cord no man could hear. 

Like unto the high priestess who kept the law in  pharaoh’s land , she touched a nature not of the common realm but of that only know to keepers of the sacred flame

 Which down the ages passed down across the mothers line a holy treasure not bound to gold or even worldly thought or hard won knowledge. 

Gathered by the common folk who had the time to observe the seasons and fold their being into that  timeless realm know only to deep unity and by extension servants in this earthly realm who can not Comprehend the things that they have rought in time which bring  completion to the world.