A Mother Earth Etc

In the whisper of a moonlight stream I heard her sigh or so I thought,
in the rustle of a mottled deer in oak pine forests I heard her weep  or thought I did,
or maybe laugh when flitting brightly  over jagged rocks.
Upon the silver tides a figure fitting her description swam, beneath the haze, before her angel outline filled the neon clouds.
Earth  mother,
birth mother, bosom to an infant chain,
whose layered womb pulses to infinity,
whose foetal spark aches,
for her many sibling forms to coalesce and propagate.