| "BLESSED ARE WE IN HER MYSTERY HAIL MIGHTY DEMETER AND SWEET KORE" |
| ON THE YEARS OF THE DEMETER MANUSCRIPT The bees, it was the bees that made me sing Her song, Droning on, and on...... They gave me the taste for Her sound. Hands covered ears, but there was no escape. Peach blossoms lined the road; They led me to a paradise filled with fragrant roses. Inhaling their deep crimson scent, I was too often caught in thorny branches. Fierce summer sun scorched my hands, And when I held them up to the light, They were the hands of a farmer. I hadn't realized how many years had passed by. Great winged serpents lifted their heads, And sent out hot searing flame. My vow was to put aside pain, bridle them, And yoke them to Her waiting chariot. And now I wait for the world to see Her great chariot ride through the skies, For all to make what they will of the printed word, Soon presented by those who procure the arcane. But I must blame this journey on the bees. It was they who first led me to drown In pale amber honey, And fall senseless into Her great song. Jennifer Reif 1999 published in The Isis Papers, Summer Solstice 1999 |
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| Jennifer Reif, Priestess of Demeter |