I Know Not: A Goddess Poem

[Guest guest]

Mark Christopher Valentine (valemar) submits the

following:

 

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I just found your site and from there, Mira's. This is my

gift back to her and all of you!

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I know not (To Mira, the Beloved)

 

“For me to live is Christ, to die is gain.” -St. Paul

 

I know not which is worse, which is better,

 

To have slumbered, to not really have been even asleep,

merely longing to dream anything, even, at least, a

nightmare. Still, empty, yearning to be filled, to desire

to shine in use.

 

Or, to have been suddenly Awakened with an Immortal Kiss.

And remember, discover that i, who was asleep, I Am, a reed

dancing in the Cosmic Wind of the Goddess of Heaven.

 

Which is better, I know not, which is worse,

 

Whether I prefer being, cool, deep, clear water, perfect

and immeasurable, drifting endlessly, without sound or

effort, formless and enduring,

 

Or, to have realized that I Am a winged flute, a dazzling

array of flying color and streaming sound, a Divine Bird,

already on fire even as arising from my own white ashes.

 

Which is worse, I know not, which is better?

 

It matters not, for to resist the Beloved is bootless

crying. Once We have been Kissed by Love in Search of Love,

We soar and sail. To be or not to be, to know or not to

know, to dream or not to dream?

 

It is the same. The Lover must Arise, just as the Beloved

must Fall. The subtle, fragrant womb of the earth is

Emptiness, longing to be filled again and again. The

merging incandescence of the wind is sweet Desire, singing

of fullness forever and ever.

 

Which is worse, which is better, I know not,

 

Except now that your lips have touched my mouth, Now that

your breath has lifted my Soul into a Spirit Song,

Suffering has become Joy, Joy has become Suffering.

 

I have become Yours, You have become Mine. And these words

of sweetness and light are nothing, because the only Time I

would Be, is in this Space just where You Are.

 

I know not which is better, which is worse,

 

To remain Asleep and Dream of you in me, or Me in You, Or,

to Awake, and discover that i am not, for You Are Here, To

recall that I Am the Nothing which is the Something which

is YOU.

 

Hail Mary, full of Grace, the Lord is with Thee. Blessed

art Thou among Woman and Blessed is the Fruit of Thy womb,

Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, Pray for us now and at the

hour of our Death.

 

Mark Christopher Valentine (July 25, 2000)

 

 

 

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