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Outfoxing the Furies

Fluid the medium by which we desire,
Heavy the limits to which we aspire
Lift ourselves free on the wings of a dove
To practise perfection by drinking his blood.
The illusion of earth is splintering fast
As we grab at the air, as we fall at the last:
Witchery, Witan, Wicca and Wizard
Pursuing the furies is why we are feared.
Opening spaces and stretching out time
In this flurry of words at thirty a dime.
We walk through the air, glance at the heights,
Sublimity scares us like the darkness of light:
In this cauldron of water, fire, earth and air
See! The silent assassin is everyfuckingwhere…

 

🌷(2)

◄ The Pontic Greeks

from swerve of shaw to blend of bray ►

Comments

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John Marks

Wed 22nd Jun 2022 22:45

Thank you very much dear Frederick in your continuing support for my stumbling attempts at writing poetry.

“Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

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