
Here, she said,
her voice
(water running
over moss)
soft, seeping
from every pore,
holding eons
of knowing
all the way
back to Eden
and before.
Here, she
said, slightly
(quicksilver
motion of poetry)
tilting a
glowing jar of glimmer,
brilliant
dust of shining things -
sun, moon,
stars, and creatures
of the deep that
shimmer dimmer.
She has
appeared before
(when time
had no name)
beautiful,
wise, archangel
Hylel, light-bringer,
Morning Star
kicked out of Heaven
for hubris
too regal.
Now she stands
at the apex
(heady view
of the world)
lovely, peccant,
as if omniscient
yet, look at
her eyes
too full of
knowing, showing
she's not beneficent.
she's not beneficent.
I think you nailed her. Sly.
ReplyDeleteVery nice, indeed.
ReplyDelete