by B.D. Bolin

Created on: February 04, 2008

Risen

There must be a womb
where we come from
though He/Him/God
would take all the credit

She is plain and dune and ocean
and full and round
we latch to her breast
sucking for food
for life
for the sweetness of her revealed

He/Him/God tells us to have none before him
what is he so afraid of?
the power, in her folds
in her hollow

The shackles crackle and clang
as we throw them off
and embrace She/Her/Goddess
She is Risen

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