From the primordial waters, an answer
to a call from the great above
a holy note
rippling through oneness
a clear pure intention
a cry to be whole.
She shaped herself woman and rose.
The King defeated in his land
limp and tired from sorrow’s arrow
Her ocean heart, Her fertile rain
to pour upon him the nectar of life
embalm his decaying flesh
and the wound that does not heal.
To moisten the seeds in his soul
the ones that forgot to grow
and the ones shrivelled by the burning Sun.
She spoke of the Moon
and Her mysteries
of constant change in eternal cycles
of life and death and life again.
There is nothing to doubt she whispered
surrender to my many faces
even though I may be terrifying
even though I may seem harsh
for in that terror and harshness
is the wonder of surrender
and the wonder of becoming.
And you, my king, are becoming
what the world needs.
Words inspired by the myth of Chariklo, the female centaur and wife of Chiron. Originally a water nymph she became, for a while, a centaur-half horse half human-to love the great wounded healer.