Odes to the Divine Feminine
She has always been there. Since the beginning of time. Dwelling at the bottom of the ocean. She is the ocean. The water of life.
She is free. She roams in the wilderness. She roars between the pillars of steel. The wet asphalt of the night. In everything, she is.
I saw her, I see her dancing ecstatically over pointy rooftops at night, the drumbeat of my heart the carpet to her art.
Her tenderness enveloping me. On her soft breast I rest my head in the hardest of days.
The safe harbor in the storm. The marble shore in the distance. I look at her with relief, as I escape from the dark numbs, her mighty winds.
She is black, she is white. In all her forms, with all her faces, eternally capturing my soul and attention. Me, her devoted adept.
I sing for her, I sing of her. Of the love the Great Mother elicit from this weak, frail, broken man.
