The fruit falls swiftly from the tree,
the bulls stand silent in the lake,
the figure crucified is seen
upon the framework of the dream.
With arms spread wide and silent eyes
they lift her high upon the boughs
and turn her face towards the south
where white-flanked cows raise shining knives
above the meek and pious brows.
With sure and steady strokes they strip
pink flesh from each initiate,
to bathe in sacred waters then
the raw-bled truth of god and men.
The wise man watches, monkey-faced
and clasps each paw in full embrace
around the pierced and bleeding feet
of Woman, raised … her Self to meet.
Then gathered in small, blackened arms
the corpse is carried to the edge
of water, sanctified and deep
wherein the Goddess counsel keeps.
To lie beneath the water’s chill
and watch through full and empty eyes
the blood-washed sacrifice abovehas been her greatest act of love.