But there are blades that cut
across the minds of her children
ripped from the womb who know not their name.
“We have been genetically modified”, she whispers seeking to spread her wings upon the dawn. Folding and unfolding rays of violet in the dance.
“She said a flower once grew in the middle of where the desert now roams digesting all wet things. His hunger could not be stopped although all who lived there tried to appease him. Granting him gifts of honeysuckle, coconuts and palm wine but nothing would soothe his desire to feed upon the moist new beginnings and so he ate endlessly until all was left were dried tears of the sacred mountain upon her bosom.” He paused heavily laying his eye to the middle of the thing he spoke of long ago, then continued laughing hautily, “Ethnologic plantation paternalism got your roots rooted in fear. Go now, your time is calling.”
(c) 2009. Ria Takharu. All Rights Reserved. Journal entry revised 6-10-09, original 3-21-05, Venus in Scorpio.
