I want to
Give my
Succulence
In exchange
For sustenance…
No. For wealth.
If a man makes me
Flower open
And sing
If he makes me
Praise the gods
For the sake of Man
I will then stand
Before him
Free
And open
In the way
I only open
When I’m free
I want to take
His money
And give him
Exactly
The Power
For which he
Strove
When he drew
That money close.
I want to open the
Gate
Step aside
And wait
While he passes
Through
Welcome
The god in him
To meet my god
Through me…
No. I want to BE the gate
Not the destinate
Not the resting place
Not the sacred vase
But the lip on the vessel
And the sign pointing way.
The sign saying
Hey
Pass through here
Pilgrim
Lay
Your gift here
Pilgrim
And go farther
On the way.
I am not your wife
I am not your lover
Neither am I
Your friend
Nor your mother.
I am the body
That fills the costume
The mask that
Opens the latch
I am a marker
On the path
Not a martyr
Or a winning
To be had
But a woman
With no past
A woman
With a name
That I have chosen
A woman
With the body
Of a woman
And a heart
Ensouled,
Unopened
A present
Wrapped and bowed
A secret
Still untold.
Cover me with worship
Look on me with hope
Empty here your hands
Sweet Pilgrim
Leave with me your lands
Sweet Pilgrim
Carry on as planned
Sweet Pilgrim
I will see you go.