Eterness

By Tom Behnke

The Sow, for the world's sake, eats her farrow.
The reaper is wounded, struck dead by the flails
but once again walks among the crowd.
While vengeance seeks him in vain.
Serpents slowly rise from the pits
expanding their enormous folds. The wind blows

Her garments and Her unbound hair, blows
cold while in humble guise She lays hands on the child
and utters powerful spells. She braids her hair, her face wet
with tears, breathes a sweet perfume
as She speaks the words of power. "Depart! fly away from us!
Let me loose the soul the demon clutches"

The great cudgel rises, falls. A hand feebly reaches, clutches
nothing and falls again. His disciple obeys, leads a martyr to hell.
The jackal peers, serpent tongue tasting the bloodscent,
And the shadows; a sentinel on duty,
while the assassin strips the victim's dress and ornaments,
tears it to pieces and flings it in the stream

Where She bathes his head, the stream
of prayers unceasing, she burns all that is mortal
from him, releases his soul. As a swallow guides him
To the haven's light, she takes up her terrible form,
Wraps it around her, talons and wings, teeth
and claws. She flies in vengeance and anger

Guides him, all he knows is anger
Dark roots reach down to the first darkness
Imprisoned around, this cooling star
Imprisoning his churning soul.
He waits, unhidden, wanting her,
stamping out the measures of the sacred

Dances, luring Her, fulfilling the sacred
last rite, merging the two halves, the final tao.
She descends, the nightmare muse, and enfolds
herself into his darkness; teeth and claws, wings
and fiery hair. The Serpent, the Mare, the Owl.
the Sow, for the world's sake, eats her farrow.