I.
Little stars wash the sky over—
standing at the doorway in my underwear—
I long to be up there.
Looping wide arches end in forever.
Her spine,
bridge-of-lights—
eyes climb.
Treetops watch Her shine—
mountain-supported,
river-wide.
Nuit and Geb, colliding
right before my eyes.

II.
The All-Father:
He slips around me smoothly,
calling my bones into ecstasy of life.
“Breath of my breath—
Alive.”
His commanding presence is:
“Tremble-
My Beloved. Ache.”
I can’t and won’t, want to escape You.

III.
The Witch is in—
arose from the cold ocean depths—
Her hounds sniff water’s edge—
Hekate pleasures the sea foam and sand—
soles of Her feet cresting land once again.
Governing dream, intuition, and vision—
omphē gift given.

IV.
St. Death is instant with Her gifts given—
no time to waste.
Life is precious.
I learn to give
in similar grace.

V.
Freyja wears a trench coat of feathers,
waist wrapped in soft, fine leather.
Resin drips electric elegance,
worn—an extension of—
heart, Her art form.
She’s shaped in every way
lovely—
given to us to enjoy and experience—
through however awakens our blood.

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