(The following poem results from my initiation into the energy of Tlahuitzcalpantetucli in February, 1999.) You the Quetzal-winged flying one; precious all-aspiring, enlightening one. You who served Quetzalcoatl's ascent, allow us, as he, your starlight. You who faced me with your diamond eyes "seeing golden" with tears from my admiration. To you, my precious one, I blow my whole heart of appreciation, I touch your cheek. I read your sign to me, my precious one, of the one single hoof print of your nagual deer. A single hoof print in the circle of bird prints on the frozen ground around my things. I stop in time with ecstatic wonder, my precious one, of the magic of your impossible gift. You with the rainbow hair that flows to starskirt at your right, the sun at your left, and the dual one above. You with the robes of weaves holding small, mysterious, magical beauties. Those small beauties of things that we can only try to capture the reflection of. Reflections of dawn light fragments secretly feeding our souls; seeding our joys. You who answered my poem, my precious one, with your sign, then took me to your blue sacred place. And faced me with your joyous blessings; me crying in bittersweet heartbreak. My precious one. My love. My morning star.