The Goddess and Me

There are more things between Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy. 

—“Wild Bill” Shakespeare

  • She took his burdens
  • Into her body
  • And disposed of them
  • Like his mother always wanted to do
  • But couldn’t.
  • His sins disappeared
  • In the soft grass of her skin.
  • She welcomed them.
  • Thank you, Love. Can I call you ‘Love’?
  • He asked the Earth
  • In the darkness of the New Moon,
  • Feeling her body fall through his fingers
  • As sediment.
  • With dirty fingertips,
  • He caressed her.
  • Love is fleeting,
  • In my experience.
  • Can you be my love?
  • Can you be my mother?
  • For they are the same,
  • At their root,
  • In my experience—
  • And you are the root of both.
  • That which draws
  • Masculine to Feminine
  • Hints at something beneath,
  • Something more true
  • And more powerful
  • Than love of the past.
  • Something perhaps more permanent—
  • Akin to dust and wind and flame (and water)—
  • Forever moving and therefore
  • True to its nature.
  • She is gentle and brutal,
  • Quiet and violent,
  • Beautiful and harmonious.
  • Gaia never rests, always produces.
  • Creating, destroying,
  • Being Herself.
  • Meanwhile, the Cosmos
  • Ever turns, “above,”
  • Corkscrewing into the darkness
  • Between galaxies.
  • And I connect them,
  • Earth and Heaven,
  • Somehow,
  • When I reach for the sky.

(written in 2009)

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