-the gods -
All gods have different gifts,
different strengths.
Heroes and heroines, too,
-if they still exist -
have their sacred things, their masks.
I have mine to offer you.
I will give it,
that simple thing,
- reaching for the godhead within -
a gift from one god to another,
I give my strength and my gifts to you.
What matter whose face
lies behind the masks, the personae?
We disappear
in the manifestation of deity,
become the Epiphany,
become the voice of daemons.
You and I are different
yet no less potent
in our distinct powers,
our disparate strengths.
We are different, perhaps at odds,
but one in our mutual need,
one in our desire,
one in lust,
one in our giving of gifts.
LOVING YOU
Your beauty is a strange gift.
There is pain, an unholy ache, in loving you.
To look at your face and form,
to meet your gaze,
to graze
these lips against yours
is to unveil an unnameable agony.
I see all that I am and am not,
condemned within your light and by your love.
Oh, you are not human!
Or, if so, a perfection inhumane,
that a starved and ravaged soul as mine,
should be caught up in your orbit,
riveted,
compelled by your gravity.
What effluence emanates from
your corporeal form?
What unworldly illumination pours from your face?
A glow, a luster, a purity of manner and mien
shimmering out from within,
casting an effulgence upon shadows,
breaking up darkness with piercing light,
destroying all obstacles to its path.
No, I could never see you as you truly are.
I could only hold you
so that my vision was blurred by
too close an embrace, until, finally,
I saw it was me - my love flowing outward
which made you too beautiful,
imbued you with too strong a light.
The pain flew, dissipated, dissolved.
Now, I love you purely and I love you
so much more.
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mailing, go to:
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HEY! THANKS FOR STOPPING BY. SEE YOU LATER??
HOPE SO!
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