Dominion

There are flashes of dark and ancient creatures in my mind, something in-between a memory and a dream.

Sweet shadows caress my ethereal sheathe and whisper my body down from the lofty heights of sentiments into the delicious murk of hidden desires.

Are they mine, these visions alive in my senses?  Constricted throat for ecstatic undulations.  Hot breath captured and kept in my belly and chest, fuel for serpentine sinews dancing to the command of an invisible wand.

The horns of the forest, are they in my hands and tethered to the crown of a primal god, or are they upon my own head?  And do I really ask, or do I already know him?  

Has he been the one to call forth instinct and passion from deep in my waters, blue til exposure kisses them scarlet?

Crimson flames awake in my veins flicker to a different pulse than my body’s heart dictates.  The rhythm of the Otherworld calls to my true blood, authentic form.  

Density recesses as I become a living dream, moving in the space between gravity and ghosts.

Apparitions for the visionary are a haunting for sleepwalkers.  To dance in the periphery or frighten upon the walls of safety’s illusion.  

Maybe the Horned One is a part of me after all, like Cernnunos mistaken for the Devil, or the Goddess of the Garden for Eve.  Something scary in half-light, but just as naked as you in the sun.

Perhaps the animal in me is the creature in us all, heeding the night cries and the early morning calls.  

Maybe I am not afraid of my own nature, and so it gives me what only it can.  To bridge the divide, weave together Earth and Sky.  Marry holy water and sacred fire.  

For when Divinity unites with Animals of the great wild Earth, when golden light crashes upon the green and the dirt and sinks through the skin of the living, we are born again in the purpose of the world:  

To eat the succulent fruit, and awaken to the Truth, unashamed and unafraid.

Copyright © 2021, Sheyorah Naify
Art: Horned Woman, a drawing by David Garner.

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