Pass Over
Pass Over holds the shape of a dream carried from mother to daughter, passed down.
Daughter, she toward me, cradled in an egg—symbol of what has been planted, what’s yet to rise. A spirit of freedom I once longed for as a child.
Rested dream. Move through bloodlines, carried in silence from one heart to the next.
Gestural mark across silk—fluid as water shaping stone — a moment between mother and child. Persistence of longing, the quiet inheritance of hope, and the promise that what we yearn for lives on in those who follow.
Pass Over holds the shape of a dream carried from mother to daughter, passed down.
Daughter, she toward me, cradled in an egg—symbol of what has been planted, what’s yet to rise. A spirit of freedom I once longed for as a child.
Rested dream. Move through bloodlines, carried in silence from one heart to the next.
Gestural mark across silk—fluid as water shaping stone — a moment between mother and child. Persistence of longing, the quiet inheritance of hope, and the promise that what we yearn for lives on in those who follow.
Pass Over holds the shape of a dream carried from mother to daughter, passed down.
Daughter, she toward me, cradled in an egg—symbol of what has been planted, what’s yet to rise. A spirit of freedom I once longed for as a child.
Rested dream. Move through bloodlines, carried in silence from one heart to the next.
Gestural mark across silk—fluid as water shaping stone — a moment between mother and child. Persistence of longing, the quiet inheritance of hope, and the promise that what we yearn for lives on in those who follow.