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In the House of Mithra

 
 
In the House of Mithra

Upon his throne of light
fade away the day
dawning into night.

Encroaching end near to sight
darkness will carry warmth away
upon his throne of light.

Sorrow tinged in golden delight
each age yields the way
dawning into night.

For new life to burn bright
and illuminate the gray
upon his throne of light.

Eyes shinning futures insight
shades of past memories play
dawning into night.

Earth born anew from plight
rapturous joys display
upon his throne of light
dawning into night.

Mother Crone

Mother Crone

Earth Mother
in cold December
her heart frozen over
full of strength
fragile as glass
let the world mourn
Persephone entombed
her sweet warmth
blush of life stolen
Demeter raves
death touches
the world.

Hymn

Hymn

At morn–at noon–at twilight dim-
Maria! thou hast heard my hymn!
In joy and woe–in good and ill-
Mother of God, be with me still!
When the hours flew brightly by,
And not a cloud obscured the sky,
My soul, lest it should truant be,
Thy grace did guide to thine and thee;
Now, when storms of Fate o’ercast
Darkly my Present and my Past,
Let my Future radiant shine
With sweet hopes of thee and thine!

~ Poe

With his venom

With his venom

Irresistible
and bittersweet

that loosner
of limbs, Love

reptile-like
srikes me down

~ Sappho

 

At Demeter’s Altar

At Demeter’s Altar

Her heart
beats in mine
storm in our eyes

Hush!
vengeance
held at
hand!

Heaven and Earth

Heaven and Earth
 
Radiant on his throne of golden light,
eyes cast down upon the Earth far below
nothing concealed from his blazing sight,
his beauty cast within fire’s warm glow,
from his gilded sphere sweet music will flow,
he rules the kingdom of the higher mind,
from dawns fingers the intellect will grow,
hidden wisdom he inspires man to find,
a blaze of his lips awakens delight
in a kiss of flame burning pure and bright.
 
Two bound souls locked in an eternal fight,
arrow of fire match the silver bow,
cast in darkness shedding ethereal light
and imperfections without mercy show,
his illumination suffers the blow,
to what the light hides darkness is not blind,
upon the owl’s wing her justice takes flight,
their hearts and souls with fate ever entwined,
now her crescent ascends into the night,
luminescent in her gown flowing white.
 
The guardian of woman’s scared rite,
with the taste of vengeance her eyes aglow
and her fury inspires soulful fright,
at her hand death promised will not come slow,
still from her emerges a tender flow,
to the old groves she weaves her scared bind,
among Hawthorne blossoms love can ignite,
a glimpse may be spared for the golden Hind
and the laughter heard of the dancing sprite
in her own garden of Earthly delight.

Lord Shiva

Lord Shiva

World destroyer
you dance
the sacred bones
ash faced
and moon eyed

Your secret smile
knows the truth
rendered blind
to others

Understanding
beyond limitations
from this is gained
the serenity of
destruction

From his own
annihilating
forces
creation is allowed
to spring from
life’s pure well

Fear not he
who shakes
the earth
beneath our feet

Come before
his feet
and be blessed
by the lord
of the sacred
dance

It is the
dance of life
only in death
comes renewed
growth

One world dies
another springs
forth
the balance
which must be
maintained

For only through
coldness
is the warmth felt
he welcomes
as he repels

My modern interpitation of Medusa, the backdrop is meant to link her into her traditional roots

Double-Sided Hapi

Hapi is an Egyptian god of the Nile characterized as having the parts of both a man and a woman and ruling over a harem which consists of gods and goddeses. This poem is meant to capture the duel aspect of Hapi, as well as the duel nature of the river known for its extremes between flooding and ebbing.

 

Double-Sided Hapi
 
Woman’s fertile waters
preserves life in sweet nourishment
as she impregnates rivers flow
before it recedes into desert sands
awaiting for the floods to emerge
that drown out the dry spell of dust
and allow life once more to thrive
she preserves us.

To My Mother

To My Mother

Because I feel that, in the Heavens above,
The angels, whispering to one another,
Can find, among their burning terms of love,
None so devotional as that of “Mother,”
Therefore by that dear name I long have called you -
You who are more than mother unto me,
And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you
In setting my Virginia’s spirit free.
My mother – my own mother, who died early,
Was but the mother of myself; but you
Are mother to the one I loved so dearly,
And thus are dearer than the mother I knew
By that infinity with which my wife
Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.

~ Poe

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