Dancing with the Devil,
Playing with his Companions,
In the Domain of the Divine,
and who is really Holy?
If not all of Us, and None of Us,
Are we not all the Same?
Singing Hymns with the Saints,
and honouring the Majesty,
as she appears from the Underworld,
the Places where they said not to Go,
and What is this Flirting?
This Parade of Colour I am throwing on the Fire?
These Offerings I’m making at the Feet of The Lady,
Asking Her to Come Back,
Begging her to Wake,
Whilst I stamp my Feet and Snake my Body
into Shapes and Movements only the Goddess knows,
These Dances,
Hidden Worship for the Mother,
so I keep Praying,
Keep Calling on Her to Trust again,
This was not Abandonment,
This was acquainting with the Masked,
The Liar hidden behind Canvases,
I thought I had caught the Knife in time,
But Just as I moved,
My Back was grabbed back by my People,
Took Me Out by Suprise,
Knife stabbed me,
and Deep it Went,
Never witnessed Her like this,
Nor felt her in such a Silence,
She has Hidden in the Clouds,
Protecting herself, in every Right.
Now I’m Dancing with the Whole Container,
The Whole that makes the Tapestry,
I’m tracing the Edges with my Tongue,
Feeling the roughness,
the Fullness of Nature,
its Parade of both tranquillity and chaos,
There is no Divine without the Darkness.
for the Prophets were gifted in their Stories of Anguish,
No?