Earth-Woman

I am woman and I have borne the Torah on a gold cloth over my shoulder. I have consecrated its dust-leadened parchment, cradling the scrolls into temple darkness... clicked-shut the doors, saddened and empty. I am of childbearing age... I am crimson with life. I have touched the Ark. I have read the Covenant. I cannot lighten the laws of heaven. I have nothing to do with clouds or sin, but I could have shown them where Eden was hidden... the forgotten way going home again. I have caressed the male god on his couch in a ghost-haunted room, a candle-dark room... remembering a soul, but eyes with no spark. I have soothed his forehead in the dead hours, softening his terror, silencing his scream, 'Mother, do not leave me again'. I cannot replace the laws of heaven. I have nothing to gain from angels or sin, but I put him on the road to Eden... the long-hidden path going home again. I am woman and I come adorned with a Mitre of thorns. I own salvation, blessed and chaliced... giving to sinners, selling to saints. I have witnessed the sins of gods. I have dried the unwarranted tears of Eve. I have confessed and absolved the dead. I will not revise the laws of heaven. I will not tamper with death or sin, but I will wait for you in Eden... at the end of the road going home again.