I
Am descended from
Bohemian
Queens who practiced Sacred Tree
Rituals beneath blood moons in forested cathedrals.
I come from the same
Stock as the
Woman-made-warrior who walked
With archangels and
Demanded
Battle’s end.
Yes.
I
Am she, a
Banshee
Who moves tongue
To typeset the silence that
Steals souls in
Cities of damned men. They
Preach perfection while professing feminism and pounding
Fists against our hearts
Gouging eyes with
Nails–
I
Need to send
A
Timely message to
Future sons and warn them
Against the fury.
Women do not wilt when
Faced with misfortune. Like birth we set
Intention with stiff jaw and
Push. Respect her
Widdershins when they go counter
To your demands.
You are
Worthy of her
Regard.
When
She gives you
Love,
She’s setting you
A place at a feast
For kings, and
You are sitting at the
Head of the table. Best
Return the favor
And thank her
She is royalty.
If
You can treat
Your
Lover like a
Sacred creature, you can show
Similar grace to
The Earth, for she is
Mother, wife, and lover to us all.
Without some worship, the goddess
Will rend oceans and leave us to
Die in flame and fury.
Listen.
This is the
Sound
Of priestess signs
Seen in wind telling how
Little time remains to change.
The world stands upon the brink in
So many ways. We have
So few days
Left to enjoy the sun.
Let us join
Hands
And exit silence
Together.
Graveyard:
Patriarchy’s slow leave-taking
Accept the honor. Do not burn
Offerings from the Divine.
She pays you homage.
She will not
Hear
Our self-centered
Cries.
