Silhouette

Mystical poem written 9-12-25. Theiatry Cycle 3.

1.
I am a victim of the Muses,
Given Vision and Voice,
Feted and feasted,
Only to be slain

Seen only in profile,
Spoken of in whispers,
And called upon,
In molten curses

Born a native,
Yet always a Stranger,
In every world,
Without and Within 

See my silhouette,
A fuzzy outline,
Of what I could have been,
And almost never was

2.
A branded one,
A fool for the gods,
A woman on a mission,
Armed with Will and Word

Standing tall,
Sitting serene,
Perched at the edge,
Of my circle

The Kingdom appears,
In all its gory,
And blameworthy excesses,
Of form and function

Here in my triangle,
Conjured and called,
This strange spirit,
Named and known

3.
I call to the powers,
Above and Below,
The Stars and Planets,
The Between and Betwixt

This aching world,
In all Her glory,
Child of Her Parent,
And Mother of us all

I burn and weep,
I gnash my absent teeth,
And wail to the red desert sands,
In ecstatic agony

I see Her, you see,
My heart breaks open,
For Her pain,
And sweetness pours out

4.
Poisons can cure,
As any healer knows,
Willing and willful,
We must bridge the gap

The Tree Of Life,
Must thrive or find itself,
Cut down at the roots,
The mulch of the future

I am with you,
And you are with me,
Though we are Strangers,
To ourselves and each other

We are all we have,
And we are all there is,
All of us are family,
And this family must be healed