Goddess of love,
Or Goddess of wrath?
By what bewitchment
Are you distraught,
That you shelter
In blackened stone,
Demand sacrifice,
Destruction at the altar
Of what you create?
In your wake
Skulls sprout
From decimated orgies
Like blades of grass,
High priests in satanic red,
Their eyes burning orbs
Of an imprisoned eclipsed sun,
Pronounce and postulate.
Songs of glory in high octave,
Birthed by celestial fear,
Madness dances endless
With cymbals and incense,
The divine fury
Of your unbraided hair
Intimidates.
He draws patterns
In the virgin sand
With rough hewn staff,
And coaxes the waters
To wash them away,
Birds perch on His shoulders,
Flowers give up their secrets,
Bees bring him alms of honey,
Muted in awe are sea serpents.
Whirlpools yield ambrosia,
His silence is His music,
His nothingness
Is His being. |
