The Mate

Once upon a timeless time

there was a kingly lion

who was loved by Me, his queen, his joy. 

There was also in the forest a regal stag.

He too was loved by Me, his mate, his doe. 

What would have happened

had I ever forgotten Myself: 

lain beside the lion as doe? 

Would he have devoured Me, his beloved? 

If I had come to the stag as lioness

would there have been a mighty battle? 

Would I have slain My love? 

Peace reigned in the forest.

Once the lion asked Me

if the rumor he had heard

could possibly be true:

that the beautiful wife of the royal peacock

was really Me. I laughed but it seemed to him

that I winked at him with a thousand eyes. 

We licked each other everywhere with our rough tongues

and I asked him,  "Am I not completely lioness?" 

and he could only purr an answer:  yes!

And when I Am not

counterpart and helpmate,

when I Am not soaring with the eagle

and diving with the whale; 

when I Am not center and focus,

Queen of the hive and the hill---

in those endless times of day and night

when I Am all Alone--

do you wonder if I Am lonely? 

Do I have no shape at all,

a fearsome Void?

In those timeless times,

I wear My own shape

your words cannot contain. 

I wear Mystery

like an awesome and splendid robe.

© Tamara Rasmussen 2018