The Heart of Kybele
The heart of Kybele
Is a drum in the darkness
The eye of Kybele
Is the sparking of flint in a cave
The mouth of Kybele
The yawning silence in the places below the earth
The secret places where cold waters lie
Black mirrors wreathed in stone
The fingers of Kybele
Are clutching now this earth.
The body of Kybele
Is arching in ecsasty.
Is writhing in the birth pangs.
Is as motionless as the hills.
Is pushing up the mountains.
And the soul of Kybele
Is a dance to a song you heard before your birth
When you first lay curled in the dark
When She sang the life into your body
Flushed you with Her sacred music
And coaxed a rhythm from your heart.
Kybele waits for Her children,
Her fingers poised above Her drum,
Come and dance for Kybele.
Ripple and cry and pound for Kybele.
Raise your lips to the sky for Kybele.
Feel Her body undulating in the quiet of Her voice,
The vastness of Her eye
In the song of Her soul.