Queen of Earth, sister of Heaven,
most peaceful, abundant Venus.
Each star upon her golden crown
merges her to the spiritual realm,
where her name is seen as desire,
flying on love, enclosed in wings.
A full and fruitful Earth Mother
who bids the poet her open arms.
At certain times of the year, mostly in times of battle,
two dry sticks rubbed together light the ancient pipe,
since this year’s suffering has nearly swept the board.
For even as peace burns all tribes are affected by war.
As smoke trails round, poetry turns my body full circle
onto dropped knees, until the door of my heart, sacred
shrine for the Creator, opens. The holy traveller enters,
seeking sanctuary and shelter for the light of the world.
Amongst the roses in flowery field
the ancient goddess Demeter roves,
holding close her golden pentacle.
Mother to all the Earth’s children,
every tree, creek, being and flower.
Sacred divinity with healing hands,
far from thought, devoted to body,
my earthy, pagan queen draws all.
More cultivated than fashionista,
she wears sophisticated clothes,
appreciating all finery and wealth.
A lover of luxury and lavish fare,
artistic with ample creative gifts
yet grounded in every moment.
She who looks before she leaps.
She who holds greatness of soul.