I kinda anticipated that this would by bending my focus on her, that as I was working I was struck by a vision of Leto coming towards me.
She was draped in a cool gray veil that blended into the swamp dirt and water. Silvery mushrooms grew from various places where dirt clung and at the soil. As she came towards me at times she had clay streaked limbs, and at other times her lower body was serpentine twinning through the fertile soil. A smell of lilies rose from her skin and breath, even as she wore a delicate twinned crown of myrtle, and her eyes echoed a vastness of starry nights. Everywhere she stepped/slithered water rose up in little springs, cool spouts and healing hot springs, and there was the sharp scent of fiery methane in the air. Frogs leap before as the human of bees fulfills the shadows as bees move along oceans of flowers that grow along the waterways and swamps. She holds a pot of honey in one hand that drips in swelling ooze from its lip, in her other hand a bean stock shedding beans to the earth where the hands of the dead reach up to grasp them.
But oh she is beautiful, even as conceiled as she is her face is luminous and pure, and her smile sweet. Mother of life in the most dank dark fetid of places, mother of generations living and dead.