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