Do not wound her countenance:
for hearts and souls are metaphors
to sieve experience, not panniers
to be loaded with slaver's gold.
And when you make a monster of
your poetry and nature
with sagging metaphysics and sick wishes
you make of her a nihilist.
Distinguish your projections from your pen:
regard your hand in the pitch dark;
lift up your fingers gingerly
and feel the contours of her silent face
awaiting you. She is always
awaiting you.
YOU ARE READING
Under The Wings
Poetry.Under the Wings of the Egyptian and world-wide respected Goddess, Isis. Poems of Nature, Inner Resonance and Mythology.
