our storm

Pictured is a piece I lettered for my mother-in-law, someone who I find to be amazingly inspirational and woman-centered.

She encouraged me to learn all I did of anti-hierarchy and respect for my fellow human beings. The peice is hung from a stick of driftwood I found on the beach by my house. It's a little blurry, but it reads:

Speak to me of your power. Speak to me in riddles, in a woman’s tongue. This day is coming into being and I need no translation. I can feel you breathing, sisters. The calm static before this long-awaited storm.

Our storm.

This is a stanza in a poem written for my mother-in-law by another woman, whom I only know as "allecto". If anything else is known about this person, I would be happy to give credit as due, here. It's a wonderful poem.