There is no beginning.
Let a swarthy unknown Goddess
be your breath.
Then you won't need any law
but wonder.
Just for a little while
sorrow and joy
will drink from the same bowl,
the one you've been holding
in your rib cage
and polishing too carefully.
True chalices get chipped
and tip over.
Spill your dark energy now.
What Mother Raven offers in
her fire-flecked feathers
and ravishing beak
is not a sun to dip in heart wine
but the spiraling splendor
of all that is hollow,
whirling inward.
Take, eat, this is the portal
to the uncreated.
There is no end.
Image by Cororo on DeviantArt
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