Humanity run mad,
Hornets in the eyes,
A fuckfever jack-cracker carnival...
I'm lying on the dusking ground,
Barley stubble and clover.
Like a wounded animal,
My child lies on me, carrying my wounds,
Made anew in her body.
Fresh fleshed the treasury of our forebears.
Our pain, our love is mingled.
The black silks of night draw up from the hollows,
Inking the hedges.
We wait for the evening to speak.
My only trusted compass,
Has led me to the bright ovens of your eyes.
There's a portal therein to the universe I belong to.
Centred in that holy prism,
Raven blacklit whole.
From the night wood,
Drawls a steam breathed bellow,
The rut passions of the moondrunk stag.
We gather ourselves up,
And walk back to light and fire.
An understanding held between,
Us both in the palms of our hands.