Savage, somehow still serene
She stands.
The only light
Filtered through these ancient trees
Leaves her sturdy frame unseen
Pools of moonlight at her feet.
The goddess Artemis embodied
But she is not celestial.
She is tangible
Made of roots and soot and iron.
All mortal beasts howled
For she became the she-wolf
In rebirth
Rising strong and steady from the belly
Of the Earth.
She swallows obstacles and evil
With a mouth of softened lips and fangs.
Like a human voice, she hangs.
Her song a war cry and a lullaby.
One of her hands clenched in a fist
The other begs with outstretched fingers
For something soft to love.
Beautiful in primal ways
Back into the woods she sways
Leaving nothing but her footprints
In the ground.
YOU ARE READING
Resting Place
PoetryA collection of poems that is more experimental and practice stuff than anything. I'll test out different forms and subjects, have a little fun with it. It'll be ongoing until I get bored with the idea of it. I'd like to hear what you think! Tell me...
