Emptiness

Shadow of My now,

I was thrown down (I chose to jump!)

from heaven, into Myself.

Gathering hell into My barren bosom,

I made Myself Queen of Night.

The scar made by the knife of separation

became hard as an edge, My only tool.

Broken half of fire, I was a magnet.

Souls came to Me, detritus, jetsam:

everything loose and lost,

in need of cleansing.

Egyptian, Tibetan books of the dead,

Dead Sea scrolls: ideas, souls,

flew into My hollow eyes and ears.

I kept My library in My head,

safe from the burning of emperors.

I opened My mouth and books flew out,

so I kept it shut.

Imagination fueled the fire in My heart.

I raised My hand and raised up souls. 

The wheel turned with no one saved.

I could not save Myself from emptiness.

Everything became Nothing in Me, deepening.

Pain grew in Me, became a Yuga

threatening to explode,

a phallic bomb,

ready to destroy its Mother.

© Tamara Rasmussen 2018