Your Imperious Love could Shatter Me

Santa-MuerteIn this time of prayer and vigil, one of the Great Teachers comes to me.  Her bony fingers and Her totem, the “jar of seed with scent that lingers,” brings me comfort … while to other mortals who would flee Her lessons and the touch of Her Mercy shiver in terror at Her very long gaunt Shadow.  I love this poem by M. B. because it encapsulates the apparent duality of Her Nature… as in many of the old Witch Mysteries, the duality is in the eye of the beholder only… but let the Wise see the truth while others rush from the outpouring darkness in panic.

Dark Goddess.

You are cold as the brief touch
of stones against my thigh.
Ancient granite. Mottled marble.

How is it to love
the darkness?

Red heads of pomegranates
swing on the tree, their seeds
blood on my hands. I pile them
in pyramids before you.

Your hood thrown back. Skin
stretched tight on your face,
I see your eye sockets, the roots
of your teeth.

Your imperious love
could shatter me.

You roam the fields of battle
where the raven croaks your name.
Carves it in the jelly
of an eye. You weep.
Tear your hair. Wander
like a madwoman
drinking blood. Skulls
wrapped around your waist.
Your scythe ending the gurgles of pain.

Mercy and terror
in the same breath.

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1 Response to Your Imperious Love could Shatter Me

  1. Niki says:

    That is beautiful.


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