Ishtar

They have wielded their weapons of war
and for centuries have laid their burdens upon our backs.
Their Torah, Their Bible, Their Quaran
has spilled our blood, stilled our song
and scarred the land.

Yet after all their holocausts, trials, and inquisitions
Our Venus still haunts their temples, their mosques, and their churches.
The breath of Ishtar invades the shallows of their dreams.

When they pause from their swift race to nowhere, they wonder.
When the current slows, the heartbeat of the goddess echoes in the hollows.

The apple then is cherished and savored.
Their Kommandments, their Islamic law, their Christian moral precepts
have tried to bind the stirrings of the soul
but in spite of Chaucer's friars with their briars
the flame still burns and burns even brighter bound.

The scent of Isis rekindles the light with knowledge.

Gaia so wounded by their avarice
broken and bleeding from their conquest
altered and contoured by their greed
even now gives rebirth to Corn Woman
as The Furies roam untamed.

The goddess escaped their clutches
and found a way to be
from hidden haunts she finds us
shaking our pleasures free.