when god isn’t listening, she rains

I’ve lived in an ice cave for a very long time. And even though I am a body of fire, I do not burn. I wear a crystal sword crown. I am in this place far away from you, at the top of the mountain. There is a valley I used to live in, down below. But I have climbed to the tops of these cliffs and now here I live, the flaming ice queen. I do feel life is endless with death woven in its cold tears, around the roots of all we feel. I don’t fall. I am embedded here in the immaculate white. In the face of this mountain, in the eyes of this moon. And do I believe in what I’ve done, not yet. For the fire must melt the ice once again and I must freeze from the pain that joins us all, enough to see below me. Again, the mist rises with these hidden words. Again the echoes stir. All around me floats the things I’ve done. These stories of the seen and unseen. In the valley below me I stir prayers and their chaos. In the valley below me, I watch like an eagle whose mother has died…

corpse in the valley my shadow is torn. cold winter night, a frozen wind howls through. me the little one dying, covered in death’s white. face, i once believed in god, like the christ.
who wore those ashes smeared before we ever saw him. his eyes. him suffer. that was later on, once the storm broke. his body in half. the rose from its stem. this sky tonight is raining thorns. soft wicked thorns. corpse upon this frozen bed. rose petals fill my dreams with light. and this dead face smiles at what seems to be god. a mother whose love might be anywhere. even now, inside of me, the hollow starry night. and i always knew this would happen. every good book leads the way…from darkness to light we go. rotting flesh back into earth. the fluffy clouds swell with angels i never see. what i feel is the crack growing wider. the valley has a river of ice. the trees covered in skin, the tap root sucking the flame. there is a song inside the earth that nobody hears, it’s a terrifying lullaby. she is death carrying life to the root. i am a fruit that fell from grace…

corpse in the valley, we watch the girl walk. barely living, see through. her body holds the mountain. the one casting the devil’s shadow at her feet. and her semblance is black. and her hand lifts a stone. i am between her and the ground. a breath rises from the corpse but nobody was watching. a smile curls from his lips but it seems to be too late. god, the life she took has returned. to the dead inside this world. he has risen from her flame a once tortured martyr, now a rose covered in thorns. there are many ways to see truth and beauty. many ways to defile fear. i broke the ground with my little feet, i beat the sun until the moon turned blue. i raged and i blew through the trees. searching for his soul, my lord it can’t be that easy. god is above us, watching us squirm, for him, holy father. my mother rises as steam from this ground. the rest is misunderstood. how you could hurt a child. how light can deceive us with its offspring. i gave birth to a shadow that crawled back inside and sucked out my life. while i looked up praying. death, this can’t be all. a well worn woman walks to his grave. a cross is all we have left, of him. who reminds us of many things we don’t see. like giving up, breaking bones, eating everything that gets in the way. she carries a thunderbolt, she parts the clouds. and when god isn’t listening, she rains. sharada devi

2 thoughts on “when god isn’t listening, she rains”

  1. thank you for posting.

    i am sitting in a cave too..and you come in and stay, deeper than I had been.

    when I thought the projection on the cave wall was all I had…the wall was projected from your cave and you took me out.

    I was wondering about how all we leave are steps and it not mattering…and you lifted me out of there. to see the steps without taking.

    i wondered about walking on air and you were there, talking about birds, always watching. coming when we are in peril…and you turned me into a bird.

  2. Keen is the eye that sees beyond the valley of the blind.
    Rising to the heights where light shines in prisms through
    the facets of a crystal crown.
    Down below the weary drone sounds in praise while deceit repeats.

    i remember a cave, in another lifetime. A cave with many chambers, Dark is was, and torches burned from mountings on the walls. It seemed to be a place of confinement. For a debt owed? Maybe it was just me then. As opposed to me now, paying off yet another debt, owed. And so it goes…

    for what it’s worth,
    i believe in what you’ve done.

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