The Goddess Comes
The dark skirts of the night rise up,
dawn's ankles appear as pale as pearls.
Some have spoken of the Goddess,
hailed the coming of Her light.
Sometimes,
as the sun crests a yet unseen horizon
I feel her enfolding arms - sense
the perfume of Her early flowering.
Other's toss and turn fretfully,
but those who invite Her in
fall in love,
they lay still and self-empty,
allow Her
Her next moves.
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