The Goddess you forgot

A lot of my poetry is about religion and anger. An exploration of the crap organized fools keep shoving down the throats of the unwary and unaware. This one is just plain fun.

The Goddess you forgot

I remember when you splashed my legs upright,
and plunged your face into waters pure
and thrilling. The chill stimulated
beard growth: It stubbled My cries
of disbelief at your skill in worship.

All growth is me. My arms wove blue

above you and the snake
I’d come love: Did you bring the apple

this time? One day we feasted
on your fear, my wisdom and his
jealousy. Writ large

in torpid blue skies,

he watched, his eyes fire
as I recalled the ancient–
and you crawled. Before another sun,

I was forced to close my legs
because he saw me,
and you were ashamed.