SUNDERING OF THE FABLED STONES

In sacred earth we lay singing
Our hearts twined two in one
The earth’s bones crooned to us
Fabled knowledge of our ancestors
Neither dark nor light did we grasp
For sacred loam was all encompassing
Eons passed, nestled with our brethren
The power of the earth’s foundations
A comforting mantle in which to dream
Then time began in terrifying forces
That painfully ripped us forth
From loamy bosom to shrieking space
Razored light we had never known
Shrieked across our skins
Hungry talons shore kin from kin
Cleaving us to another fate
In a mighty blow wielded by a god
We were torn asunder
My heart no longer whole
My very skin carved away
In painful birthing ‘we’ are now ‘I’
Heart wrenching in my aloneness
I cry for my soul so close, I see
And feel the throbbing sob
Of a soul lost, alone and unwhole
Reality separates us; in a gulf
Wider than the universe
And deeper than eternity
I see my soul shaped, made firm
Faceted like the stars; our ancestors
My dream, my desire, my destiny
To be at one with my heart, my beloved
In this life and all the rest
~~Feral Goddess, A.G. Muilenburg

CARAVAN OF SOULS

It is so cold here, there is no fire down inside
Let me touch your face so I know that I was alive
Drifting with this caravan of souls I have dismissed how to pray
Intent on weaving the dark and light never reaching grey

I see we are bound on the tracklessnes of eternity

Sharing chaos's wild dance with self, needing connectivity

An angry desire ripping the door off the vault of creation

Spinning in chaotic order my threads of future destruction

To start again tomorrow my creatrix spirit cries

~~Feral Goddess

Opener of The Way

Undenied Steward  

Keeper of the Dead  

Possessor of the Way  

Opener of the Door  

My Guide Home  

~~Thy Daughter  

In the grip of creation - weaving new fairy-tales and poetry.  Seems opening a vein would be easier at this point.  I am exhausted but still my restless mind produces and my paper defies its whiteness gratefully with the plague of words, thoughts and ideas that flow from the tip of this enchanted stylus.  So much is flowing I cannot seem to keep up.  For I have offered up to the  Opener of the Way and he has answered.  I can only ride the tide of ink and beg to be stained unto my soul!