Thursday, April 26, 2007

Poem: The Pythia Speaks

(A completely free form work in progress. Comments welcome.)

I walk the corridors,
Laurel branch in hand

Strings of dappled light
Invade the darkness
And the smoke of incense
Fills my lungs

The tripod waits
Where from my lips spill
The forgotten mysteries
Of the endless serpent

The sweet perfume ascends
From the swollen Earth
Like the vapors of a flowered brew

My young body shakes
And pulses
With the spirit of the Mother

The supplicants gape
In wonder
In horror

They don't know it is the Earth that speaks
Through me,
Her priestess

It is the Earth that quakes beneath them
And not the God of the Sun
But ancient Mother Gaia they invoke

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