You pour warm oil into your cupped hands and slowly rub them together. Gently, you lay your hands upon your mother's sacred place.

Reverence fills your touch. This tender flesh has given you life, nurtured you from within. You massage with deep care for its depths of nurturance, sensitivity and wisdom.

Your hands work with steady intention. Every fold and crevice receives the soothing friction of palm and finger, moving in circular motions that ease away ages of tension.

Your mother sighs softly. Though unspoken, understanding passes between you in this ritual of honoring the feminine source. Both find solace in this vulnerability shared in loving trust.

You focus your touch around her inner thighs, pressure points that connect to her core. As adhesions release, so too do memories of wounds once held inside her flesh. Your nurturing hands ease them into light.

Your mother's voice breaks the silence in prayerlike lament. "In joy and sorrow you were made," she whispers. A blessing for the soul you both are becoming through this exchange of grace.

You meet her gaze with moist eyes, hands stilling. Tears flow as words fail, but understanding has taken root in this sacred space of beginning. This vulnerable flesh embraces the whole of life - its darkness and its light.

Mother and child come together then, all labels falling away. Two souls see each other truly in this vulnerability made holy by love.