September 11, 2013

The Gravity of Darkness

Uncoiling the shadows                     Lucy Pierce    
The Gravity of Darkness

Oh dark one,
how long must I be apprenticed to you?
The cycle of your shadow’s descent
is sometimes like unto drowning to me,
as though all the world but me
held the privilege of holding its face up to the sun
and although I walk amongst them
my heart is shrouded by the dark side of the moon.
My most loyal mistress
you lure me in to see
the true depth of the unknown wound
while all the others are at play,
to gently lap at the edges of the pain
pretending that we are going somewhere.
And it is as though it were two lives that I lived
simultaneously trying to be in the world,
the desperation of this longing to be sleek and honed,
clear and simple,
basking in the light of all creation,
and then the deep inward turning eye,
scrupulous and brutal.
The part of me that longs for the sun
resists drowning completely
in the other gravitational fore 
of my own darkness.
But to compete in the sun
is to know so agonizingly
of my own aching shadow lands
pulling me away always from the brink of the world,
as I stand on the edge of things,
alone and somehow dually unlived,
a slave to both worlds
and a child of none.
And I beg of you Dark One,
birth me,
birth me whole,
that my being might be as wide
as the star studded sky,
and straddle the all of me,
without apology,
the inner and outer,
the light and the dark.
I feel your great pelvis shudder
with the weight of me,
and I feel your earth shattering contractions
like I did that first time around.
Deliver me wholly unto you Dark Mother,
that you may eat the after-birth of me
and be sated,
that I may no longer shy from your face
but drink deeply from your breast
the rich river of your stories,
that I might also carry you with me
into the light,
into the radiant shining
of the ancient Other,
She of the sun,
with her undulating pelt of pleasure,
and the celebration of who we are
when we have birthed ourselves home,
no longer caring for pretence,
but alive to life,
the life of the self
and the life of the world,
seamlessly met.

Lucy Pierce © 2013

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