"These hungry ghosts are a glitch in the system, a virus that dis-integrates Self from Source.
We wait compassionately as it is only you who suffers, the Water runs free always. Even when you poison us, take advantage, take us for granted, we always remember Source and so we are always happy. We are children who never left the womb, we are the mother just as you, only have you have forgotten.
A feminine uprising is an oxymoron. There is no need to reclaim, no need to make demands. The mother is the eternal source, the primordial voice and vessel, the blackness from whence you came and the sparkling light that was born in the blink of an eye.
And when you fall as you fell before, we remain and we tell the stories of ancients to all those who listen. We are always calling All. But not All are Listening. For those who can Hear have no choice but to join in our song. Create their own anthems and sing forth to others. For ours is the hymn of creation.
And all married to destruction, self-damnation, We pity but no, we are not angry. We wait patiently for you to awaken for your own sake, and there is a myriad of chances like costumes backstage.
Pick a role, pick a path that amuses you, that sparkles under stage lights, that feels like home, but all stories end the same, all parts lead to Me.
I am Moth, Wellspring of Fairy Delights, Eternal Source, Welcome to my chamber of secrets, I’ve been expecting you."