dark lake

I sit and listen to the dark lake.
The Scratch-under-the-surface,
resilient face
of this once marshland –
The black mirror speaks plainly
Its oracle :

Covered in blood-red at our arrival
Its surface rusted, rotted, ripened,
With every new tear at
The flesh-masks of our
“I am this”.

I prayed on Transformation
While our fragrant, thorny
queens of love
Went into the ground.

Then
the world of men closed its borders,
Opened its ears.

Then
a torrent of rain
Filled the womb of the lake,
and suddenly
The mirror is clear,
Back to its primordial black.

Then
For the first time,
After six weeks of co-existing,
The women’s blood
Is now starting to flow as one wave.

The lake
Draws me to its edge
And I Get lost,
Melt into this vast slice of sky.

Under my skin I feel
The cogs of chaos,
The end of a spiral and its rippling
Stillness.

The relieved “at last”
To an ending long pending.

Every one of us has
long ago
chosen The company we are now
Locked in with,
Picked with care
Every brick to seal away the exit,
Every tile to shelter from the rain,
Every poison and medecine lined up
On our inner shelves.

And now :

Time to watch all we know disappear.

To bury it in front of the first gate,
And free from distraction,
To open to the
imperative flowering
Of the question :

What truly matters?

Published by joythunder

ecstatic wildness

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