The darkness,
dampened with fat teardrops
running down chubby cumulus cheeks
splashing on the tweedy lap of
the hills and valleys.
Browns and lilacs and deep lush
greens, all now a uniform grey.
Homogonized to obscurity by dusk.
The golden globe
supported on a titian cushion
hugged to the breasts of the
reclining mounds
thrust into the air
by centuries of seismologic caresses
deep in the loins of the earth.
Pale wraiths
now flickering scar-like across
the face of the moon.
And She, nestled fully and comfortably
in the velvet backdrop,
reassuringly plump. pregnant
anticipation
as we wait for darkness to fall,
almost completely into the arms of night.
The golden globe giving way to the silver.
The fresh smell of newly watered heathers
riding on the breeze.
All senses tingling, we join hands
and slowly circle, chanting softly
Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali, Innarna
As we raise our praises to her,
on such a perfect night. Her presence
can be seen, here in this landscape,
can be felt, here in this circle
on this air, on this night
Blessed Be!
07/1992
Lovely descriptions; the reader is transported to the sights, sounds, and scents of that magical moonlit night. Good poem
a gorgeous narrative with stunning images just reading the words gives me happiness and that doen't happen often a fine [poem
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wonderful word power and the poem is awesome.