Persephone’s Rising

By way of editorial comment: This poem of mine was published in Datura (2010), an anthology of Pagan poetry and essays by U.K.-based occult/esoterica powerhouse Scarlet Imprint.

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Persephone’s Rising

If the Ides of March are past

whence comes this heaviness of heart?

 

He said it would be like this

in the silver half-light

the chariot steeds splashed across the waves

of Acheron

then I tumbled headlong into Lethe

 

No forgetfulness, though,

for She Who Never Slumbers Above

yet she caused the earth to slumber

her own body to be ravaged by winter’s withering

force

Golden poppy tresses

trembling with rage

as I found a new half-life for myself

fructifying

the dead populace

and my beloved drank deeply

smeared himself

with my pomegranate juices

nectar more precious than wine, he said

pomegranate

 

Everything cavernous

cadaverous eye sockets

the mask of white loveliness

frozen onto my face like the folds of

the himation molded to my breasts

The pillars of this place

gleaming with the hope

of untold dreaming

the quiet denizens of this murk-world gape and shuffle towards me

arms outstretched

Mother

Queen

The curve of the sickle

Warm lap of abundance

Fertile in fallowness

Gaze not with the imperium of the Judge

but as an unconquerable Protectress

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