She speaks in pinks and yellow daffodils.
She talks of innocence in the clear sunlight.
She tells us of purple lilies that climb up to the sky.
She stands like a goddess; her hand commands all living things.
Her smile tells the earth that all is good, all is as it should be.
When Beltane comes, the people dance their fever, lifting their arms
with fresh grass and glowing stalks.
When the fires burn down, the couples mate in quiet with their intended.
All is at rest.
She stands alone as the sky darkens.
She knows what awaits her people;
the Roman invader slits her throat,
while his soldiers scurry after the naked women,
slaughters the men who want to protect them.
God has finally arrived.
Original sin has tainted us once more,
as our dying eyes watch the burning of her last grove.
6 comments:
Finally, finally, a wicca post. I'm so overjoyed!
Oh, is that what that was? I based it on some Tarot cards I got for Christmas.
Wicca or Tarot - it's beautifully spun!:)
i especially loved the opening lines:
"She speaks in pinks and yellow daffodils.
She talks of innocence in the clear sunlight."
Nice, En.
It's a history your imagination seems to know well (& tells well).
There's the sense of an eternal repetition; and of how concepts of a current personality (which you trace out as Christianity) are layering over antecedents -- deftly handled.
Thanks, David. When the muse hits, she hits. That came out of nowhere.
Shilpa: Are you into Tarot cards? I have 3 decks and do readings, but I've never done one online.
I like all this talk of Beltane... brings out the Celt in me. :o)
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