From Yang to Yin and Back Again

The Goddess reigned in ancient days of stone,
When caverns were the temples to her soul
And sacrifice was made to bless the hunt
And ask the herds forgiveness for our toll.

The God and Goddess rose to reign together,
Proliferating into spirits, sprites,
More gods and goddesses of place and weather,
Emotions, actions, all the mind's delights.

The Goddess got demoted to become
God's mother, mother of mankind, serpent-
Seduced--the masculine emerging from
The desert and demanding we repent.

The God emerges, fully masculine
And motherless--the goal is to protect
The women from the world of men--the sin
Is failing to be bold, make gold, reflect.

Lip-service to the Goddess while the God
Is granted fullest reign and many goals
Are all that's worthy just elevates the rod
Of Hermes, justifying sexist trolls.

Affirm the feminine in freedom, fill
Yourself with all her virtues--Goddess true
To who she is should never feel the chill
Of merely manly virtues are her due.

The masculine and feminine must reign
With equity and we must look upon
Their virtues as on par to make us sane
Like sun-filled lunacy at break of dawn.

Alive in Memory

We are dissolved in every little death
That dissipates our energies into
Each other and the world--the cosmic breath
Ensouls the swimming, crawling things, and you.

And in a flash of light our life begins--
The shadows deepen, make distinct the dawn--
Our aims will not improve without our sins--
Yes, when will no one notice that you're gone?

We know the poem makes the subject live--
The object is to keep each soul alive
In minds and in that way their minds will give
Long life like that Achilles chose to strive.

Each death becomes a little death in art,
For when you enter it, you don't depart.

Harmony

The poem tells you what you are afraid
To know--and that is your discomfort. Verse
Transformed into the Way, made myth, won't fade
From mind--disturbing rest you think a curse.

You manly men, embrace your feminine--
The cold, moist moon that casts your shadow--find
Your Hermes, Aphrodite and begin
Your transformation to their child, unwind.

You women, too, embrace your masculine--
The hot, dry sun that casts your light--bind
Yourself to Mars and Aphrodite--sin
Is failing to embrace their child, their mind.

But balance does not make us negatives
Of who we're born to be--we need an eye
Belonging to the other so she lives
Within the him, and him in her, won't die.

Employ your taste, employ your sight, and listen
To what the ether says and smell the earth,
So cold and dry--upon the grass will glisten
Dew drops reflecting what we're truly worth.

Angel Flight

A flock of ducks, of geese, of swans ascend
From off my brow--I bow beneath the moon
That lights the willow by the pool---I mend
My soul into the Earth---the golden noon
Lies far upon the other side---I lift
My eyes up to the soaring swans whose wings
Will lift me through the night to my great gift---
The lead swan sweet of Leda softly sings
As over war-burned ruins we all soar---
The knights take up their place to guard my flight
From my coal cave onto the sandy shore
That shimmers diamond in the cold moonlight---
The messengers have come in swirling breath
To wing me wiser from my time with death.

Birth, Love, Death, Rebirth

A third of life in death, the winter cold
Comes from a pomegranate seed, the taste
Too much a red temptation--just ask Eve--
Persephone had laid the land to waste.

Yes, death is in the world and we've been thrown
From off the heights of Eden, and we fell
Until our deaths devour all we've loved
Lined on the executioner's stone wall.

The fruit of death, blood-of-Adonis-sprung--
Fruit of abundance and fertility--
The red globe bursts against the wall and spreads
The seeds to bless the home and family.

The seeds of death on Eve's and Adam's lips--
The fruit of life in Jesus's, Mary's hands--
The crown upon the poet-singer's head
Is how the blood moon fruit spread through the lands.

Persephone and Hades, twisted serpents
In double helix carried by the soul
Who carries souls to death--the merchant's wings
Lift through the skies to each soul's final goal.

The serpent twisted through the earth-tree's roots,
The serpent twisting in the eagle's claws,
The serpent twisting words so subtly
Will fall, has fallen shedding nature's laws.

The serpent bears the pomegranate crown
To gown the virgin lunar bride in fig--
Reborn into the bridegroom, as the son
Of man who, seeking, 'round the roots will dig.

Disturbed, the one-eyed eagle will lift up
From off the top-most branch and disappear
Into the sun, returning as the wren
Who flits among the serpents without fear.

The tree is felled, its wood is sawed and planed
And raised into a wall, the windows hung
With curtains red and pomegranate-trimmed--
A room where words are written and re-sung.

The wise will spend a third of life within
This room of holy wood, the book-filled den
Of nature's shattered seeds and learn at last
To love the the subtle song of the king wren.