PAGAN POEMS

In the bosom of Silence and Softness,
Silver Fire illumes the blue shadows
where Flora sleeps in her enamored
Beauty, as the Wind's phantom fingers
weaves wisps of angel's hair from the
Twilight mist, he grazes the cheek of
the Girl who Loved the Wind, she stands
naked and exposed to the ariel climes
breathing around her, she waits to exhale
a delicate sigh that will cleanse her
soul in rekindled warmth, in the lonely
and tranquil moments of the rosy-eyed
Dawn she is clothed in all the colors
of the Wind, enticingly soft are her
ghostly lover's caresses upon her
breathless curves and burning valleys,
arousing her beyond all latest Thought
of Reason, she awakens to a fount of
intimate secrets that ripens under his
provocative breath, still the Moonwind
swells on the celestial tide, as quiet
as water rippling through the Twilight-
tender Sky, she is embraced by the Song
of seeking Sensuality as Zephyrus softly
breathes on Flora, his ultimate Desire.

I do not love you as if you were one of the
prideful carnations the Sun throws down, or
the arrow of topaz light that falls onto the
Sea's orgasmic swell, or even the mountain
rain that turns to mist before it meets the
Earth, full of salt and sand, oh no my love
is deeper than that, deeper than the compact
shades that kiss my mind when I think of you,
truer than the truths that can only be found
in the handful of Earth I was molded from.

I love you as the plant that only blooms in
the soul of my heart, blooming rich and moist
like chocolate cake saturating my mouth with
its taste, I love you without understanding
but only knowing that your memory lives in me,
scorching dark into the wineglass of my body,
but without caring to know how or why I love
you, I only know I do for this is the only way
my heart knows in its amorous existence, be-
yond the complexities of the Day I love you
best in the simple stirrings of the Night, I
love you as certain special secrets are meant
to be loved: kept in that special space between
the Moon and the kissing dark, kept in that
special place between the shadow and the soul.

The snow fell, unravelling through the Night
like a fathery rain full of a softly thawed
whiteness, and through this snowy Silence I
walked, alone but not, alone except for the
company of each fairy flake that fell on my
breast, speckled my head's blond nest with
diamonds, there did they glitter like a tear
and thawed in the same silvery show, courting
divinely, the snow seemed to fly to me in
wanton unrest as poetic inspiration does into
my Solitude nest, but the touch upon my breats
was much more purely fallen, touching intimately
and kissing even more so, it was Zeus who was
my lover as he descended from his celestial
tower and covered me in his snowy disguise, as
he once covered Danae in a golden shower so
did he now cover me in a snowy shower, soft
and shimmering where his lips left a kiss of
snow, I watched in pretty Silence as they slowly
melted into a jewel, a multitude of frozen gems
now decked my embracing garments on my Winter's
walk through these sparkling jewels of snow.

Dark and lovely in the waning Night,
I am brave, I am strong, I am protected
- by Hecate, she who is the shadow and
shade of my soul, the dark song of
the Night I love, the inspiration of
the nocturnal hours I adore, spilling
down on me in a liquid silvery strength,
I am purified in her dark shining,
comforted under her raven's wing that
covers my virgin nakedness until my
fears and hurt and insecurities melt
away with the waning Moonlight, melting
away until all that remains is my cool
renewal, the amazon strength that is
now mine, and as she covers me with
her dark dvinity - loving me with her
dark divinity - I am complete at last,
complete with Hecate and the Night.

The good Night walks in Beauty
as yet unknown, but waiting for
the sweet discovery of Self,
she heals with melody and prose,
too sweet to be seen, her essence
can only be felt in the silvery
silence that speaks to the open
heart, when the raven sings and
the Moon spreads her gossamar
wings upon some distant shore,
it is the Darkness that welcomes
in the lonely and the alone and
me, those who live without armor
encasing their hearts, those who
feel deeply and love even deeper,
the Dark welcomes them into her
season of what is impossible and
what should not be, where Dreams
wait to be dreamed and Hope is
eternal, as eternal as the Night.

This is the good Night that I
know, from her have I come new
and purified as the ring of
fairy fire that falls from the
burning Moon, falling upon the
newness of me, how easily does
the Night gather me into her,
for it is her unfathomable heart
of Darkness that is the cauldron
into which all else is pulled:
all color and feeling, shapes
and energy, magic and mysteries...
and myself, all living creatures
unknown but to the labyrinth of
the imagination, this is the
good Night I live to know.