I am the face you see
in all trees – amid the thickest leaves.
Watch ten rays of sun
sweet-talk the morning mist,
high above my pagan heart,
where knotted roots
speak a tango to twisted limbs.
Seek only the path
with no end, for lips of berry
and sunlight linger there.
Sense Mother Earth and how
she connects me to your world.
Look deep into my eyes
hear the whisper of the wild,
it is where you and I belong.
Three moons shine deeply above the bed
where she lay alone, her eyes silent as ever.
While I, in my black robe, wait endlessly
until consciousness is brushed to one side.
My hands are untied by the dark Mother
who awakens to embrace me once more.
Each night I place myself upon her altar,
yielding to the Mother’s lustrous voice.
Although I cannot see her light, wet body
I lift mine higher as Witch and Soul merge.
Later, after she plants her seed inside of me,
I give her everything and more, and more.
As the moon slipped off her silken robe,
casting silver, liquescent folds over the lake,
two night-dresses slept on rocks below.
Where deep beneath the spell of summer,
lips of witchcraft and enchanted love,
we swam unwrapped in the moonlight.
Under ancient warmth we embraced,
each goddess glowing, soft moon shining.
With shimmering hearts we dived deep,
welcoming Aphrodite’s ardent, aching want.
Poetry saw every kiss, as wet with love,
our bodies lay bare the Mother tongue.
My hips enjoy a life of their own,
overflowing in sweet vitality.
Swinging with the music,
they awaken my melodic soul.
When undressing the bridal bed,
placing flowers on her table,
my hips will start to sway
to those songs on the radio.
With mop in hand when tidying,
they provoke a wild dance
with my hips all shaking
and silver earrings joining in.
I enjoy blending my hips
with my womanly rhythms,
ignoring the mad voice inside
who screams out, “Whore!”