Bennu of the Northern Stars
It is not enough to be broken
(broken in all the wrong places)
Not, he says, if what you need is to be broken open
(you are not big enough to hold yourself)
Come, straighten those limbs
(I will crack the bones of you to make you true)
Stretch yourself free of your confinement
(your shell is crazed from the stress of being bound)
And I will tear you open
To let the god fly free.
The Voice of Geb
I fell from heaven,
My love,
And now can only reach and wish –
My every oak tree striving for her depths
My every mountain aching to stroke her starry skin
Each skyscraper and termite mound rising up
With the force of my desire.
I fell from heaven and lie spent
Surrounded by her luminous darkness.
This is My age
My children
(Each and every one of you an imperishable star).
Your prophets cry that all things are upended
Your families broken
Your poor too wealthy
Your powerful overthrown.
Your barbarians are at the gates
And the downtrodden dare to speak.
Bewail the horrors of My age
The overwhelming chaos of choice
The terrible freedom that let you come to Me at last.
You come to Me alone
As you must
Leaving your kin behind to come to Mine.
You come to Me to build
With the full strength your solitude wreaks
In defiance of prophets and kings.
This is My age
And yet you build
Mighty, despairing works
Aspiring to what is long-lost
In the memory of My sand.
Recent Comments