She is Alive
Like the face of a Goddess
Every pore in her skin
Is a universe
From her issue the cycles
Of birth and destruction
Of growth and decay
She is Alive without opposites
She bestows and extinguishes lives
Her love is implacable
She is Complete in every instance of unceasing transformation
You cannot destroy me.
But by all means, stop trying.
March – October 2019
In the fangs of the Dark Mother
There is no hiding the unholy filth,
No escape from Her Divine rage.
Thrashed and torn,
Eviscerated and devoured,
Every corrupted bone crushed and shattered,
Going out with eerie toxic sparks,
Giving up the ghost of black acrid smoke
In the blood-splattered ashen battlefields of Death.
Yet She is the One
Who grows me back all anew
In her starry womb
Of endless Love.
Her tender breath condenses
Into quivering beads of my cells
Each blessed by a sweet kiss
From her smiling lips.
Peals of Her laughter
Blossom through bouquets of nerves,
Dance in delight through the intricacies
Of muscles and joints.
I am a sigh of innocence
Embodied in her infinite caress.
My soul dissolves into the ocean
Of her luminous gaze
As she nurses me on her milk of Stars.
With her own exquisite hand
That blesses universes
She wipes my tears and whispers:
“Hush, my baby.
It is never too late to Trust”.
November 2, 2019