goddess coming

[Guest guest]

_GODDESS COMING_

Do you feel the goddess moving?

Under your feet?

Bucking the concrete just enough to do a double take?

Do you feel goddess writhing just under earth's skin?

Rippling across orchards with her stretching?

She is waking.

Do you sense the timing of this?

In my dreams, a collective scream of all our women rises above the

troposphere,

Gathers in a circling cloud,

A watering douse,

Calls goddess to wake.

Her knee buckles the vineyards and the grapes roll down the hills.

Surprised stratospheres mingle and confuse weathermen all over the world;

They straighten their ties -

But the knot - keeps - slipping.

Do you hear goddess?

Clear her lungs after centuries of sleep?

More a rumbling or protentious growl that shakes the ground.

Perhaps Apollo paces.

Women everywhere throw open screen doors,

We do not see each other -

Yet.

An ancient hunger stirs in our pelvis -

The original volcano -

Delphi calls.

Women everywhere put their hands in the earth -

Midwives all -

We do not know it but we are helping her out -

Exhuming her -

Our Mother -

Our Selves.

Snakes churn the soil under crackling concrete.

Fences around the church break,

And the chapel bell rings of its own accord.

The steeple tilts.

Everywhere children twirl in grass and fields of truffles,

Snort the ground like happy pigs.

They smell the change in the earth.

Anxious for the storm.

The orchards are full with olives and grapes.

Ivy-hugged walls loosen their grip -

Stones tumble -

Apples fall in the child's hand and break into a white smile.

The pomegranate juice stains their fingers and cheeks -

Sticky with kumquat, satsuma, dew berries, and fig.

Mothers lie on the grass everywhere -

Undulate with the opening earth -

Highways tremble -

Truckers lose their way -

And the road ripples like a flapping sheet on the line.

Do you see goddess smile?

Glaciers melt.

Pained crosses drop.

Suited and robed, men scamper,

And some men fall to their knees,

Grateful for the coming.

Towers crumble.

Whales sing.

And for a moment,

We men,

We women,

Are all in sync.

{Miriam (Mimi) Gauthier LeBien 2002}

Mgl 2004