A Name We Share

Great Mother, Harlot, Fortune, Fury–You–

What made me think that I could grasp your Name?

I clutched at gasps upon the wind and drew

a breath from out the ether, hot with shame,

and called her, “Harlot,” “Fortune,” “Fury,” “Strength,”

the arcane eight, for “Power,” “Glory,” “Love,”

but fell one short. I’d go to any length!

No furnace in the Earth or star above

burned hotly as this sullen, hanging man.

So deaf, so blind, was I, all heat, no light.

You didn’t keep your promise, but who can?

You had to disappear, but not with spite.

We sometimes reap the grains we did not sow.

I knew not we were “human.” Now, I know.