You wipe away the last of the oil from your mother's legs. Your eyes travel up and come to rest on her sacred place, the source of life itself.

Tears well up within you unbidden. This lovely cleft that has cradled and nurtured you since before your first breath - it seems almost holy now, a gate to mystery and wonder.

You look upon your mother's loins with the loving eyes of a child - beholding the source of the first embrace you ever knew, the womb where your soul took shape. Reverence fills your heart for this woman who gave you life and love, unselfishly.

Your mother takes your hand softly. As your eyes meet, she sees the awe that touches your gaze. A tear rolls down her cheek. "My sweet child," she whispers. The words carry a lifetime of love and memory in that single breath.

You bend down and gently kiss each of your mother's thighs - an act of gratitude for the flesh that bore you, the spirit that nurtured you. More tears flow down your cheeks, meeting the oil that still glistens on your mother's skin.

You sit by her side in silence, taking her hand in yours. The words have flown, leaving only wonder at this miracle of sacred flesh that has joined you forever through love and grace.

Mother and child look upon each other, seeing in the other's eyes an endless reflection of soul. You press your glans into the cleft and slowly push inside. That which began in vulnerability transcends all labels, spoken in the language of the heart where beginnings and endings dissolve into