The willing for awakening
Is the awakening
The life blood of female 'yes'
This is the dewy underworld
Of stalagmite caves
Where the dripping of waters
Cool thirsting tongues
And birth forgotten landscapes
On the hard stone
Of sculptured bliss
We are descending now
Our mouths stained with pigment
Our loins red with earth
We are moving along the silent walls
Deeper into silence
We are descending
Down
Down
Down into the darkened womb
Of ancestral longing
Down into the moon black contours
Where petroglyphs writhe in sacred dance
A ritual
Awakening
As we did then
As all men must
Trust their death
As the feline huntress
Trusts her prey
copyright Ann Mortifee 1996
Next | Poetry Index
