The Goddess of Reality

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Let it be known


I worship the Goddess.


The one with tangled hair where insects nest


The one with blood soaked thighs


The one who crushes my concepts 


With her razor teeth 


And spits my mind into the wind


She shakes her belly to the beat


Of primordial passion


She feasts on the meat of ignorance 


And wanders in the garden with a basket 


Woven with the chaos of stars


She is naked


And savoring


Every petal and thorn


She churns the wheel of time 


And casts the seeds of manifestation


Without rhyme or reason


She is senseless and crazy


Innocent and free


Her skin is the color of heart break and 


Her eyes the sound of laughter


She takes no prisoners


She can not be contained


Or rationalized


She wont conform to my ideas of


What reality is


Or how things should be 


Just when I think I have her under control 


She takes me down


She will not be dominated


She always wins


She stomps to the beat and throws her hips 


She is the prowl of the panther


And the leaping deer of supreme delight


Her hair smells of tobacco and pine


She carries a knife in her pocket 


And holds a lily in her hand


She is pure in heart


She is the darkness of thunder


She is the undercover agent 


Of divine madness


Whose ruthlessness is compassion


Who severs my arrogance


And undoes my separation 


So that I may know her deeply


And drink in the wild radiance


Of her mess


With all that I am


I submit to her 


With all that I am 


I prostate before her


Insane beauty 


She demands the death


Of all my control


When I am humble and true


She comes to me


“Dance!”


She says.


“Why aren't you dancing!”


I surrender all reason


She will not be tamed


My submission is my devotion


I have tried to control her


In 10,000 ways


Tried to seduce her into 


My happiness 


Yet she is the Grace


That smashes all hope 


And opens up the blessed wound


Of living


When I am tired and weary


She brings me to my knees


Her muddy feet


Are the altar of worship 


The palace of freedom


Where Joy is born


I love Her


This feral beast woman


Spinning chaos and tenderness with her 


Fingertips


Whose tongue speaks no meaning


Whose laughter is the rose


Of senseless beauty


Whose smile is the sword


That slays all striving 


To the one who can never be possessed 


Or contained 


I submit


To the one who is drenched 


In the nectar of Love


To the one who demands 


Nothing less 


I dance with her because


There is nothing left


To do