A Maggot by John Fowles.
"…Now one appeared in the door, she in silver we had seen before. And in her hand she carried a posy of flowers, white as snow. Smiled she and came brisk down the steps that led from the maggot and stood before us, but there she did turn her face, for of a sudden above her did appear another lady, dressed as her, but more old, her hair grey, tho' she still bore herself straight and upright; and did also smile upon us, yet more gravely, as might a queen…
For this second lady did the like come down the silver steps, and no sooner was she upon the cavern's floor, than yet another lady appeared in the doorway, as 'twere in her train, that was old; her hair white, her body more frail. Stood she and looked upon us the same as the two first, then came more slowly to the ground beside them. All three there gazed upon us, with that same kindly look. Then further marvel, 'twas plain they was mother and daughter, and daughter's daughter again. Thus it seemed the one woman in her three ages, so like were their features despite their different years…
Unless that the oldest bore a posy of flowers of darkest purple, near to black; and the youngest as I say, of purest white; and her mother flowers of red, like blood. Else were all three as peas in a pod, spite of their ages…
Both young and old that stood beside she in the centre, they did turn towards tier and made as a step to be the closer. And by some strange feat, I know not how again, were joined as one with her, or seemed to melt thus inside of her; disappeared, like to ghosts that pass a wall, and the one woman, she of the grey hair, the mother, left to stand where there were three, as plain as I see thee now. Yet held she no more in her posy her red and none other flowers, no, she held the three kinds together, the white, the red, the dark purple; as if still we must believe by this what our eyes must doubt…
No more of riddles. Speak now - who was this woman?
No woman, but queen of queens, greater than the greatest lady. She without whom God the Father could not have made His works, whom some would call the Holy Spirit. She is Holy Mother Wisdom.
The Holy Mother, you would say? The Virgin Mary?
A greater even. Holy Mother Wisdom, 'tis she the bearing spirit of God's will, and one with Him from the beginning, that takes up all that Christ the Saviour promised. That is both His mother and His widow, and His daughter beside; wherein lies the truth of those three women grown one I saw first appear. She is that which liveth always, and shall be my mistress alway..."
Triple Goddess
