elixir, a poem


deep in the sacred centre of my genesis
the root of my craeb the fountain of my spirit
the loud-crying stone of my validation
the spark of my flame’s ignition
there are my many destinies, infinite and eternal like seeds

sometimes I feel I could reach
through the marbled liquid layers of my years
to the first cry of my life
the first beat of my foetal heart,
the wild radiant moment of the fusion of gametes
the weaving of worlds in the twist of their nwyfre

and in the palm of my hand,
cherish, cradle and nurture the seed,
sheltering the incubation of my own genesis
in the union of the many sainted angels
whose lives have spun the fibres of my being.

when I feel around the pain and the joy of my life
the cradling palm, perhaps the sweet elixir
that entrances me anew to life’s enchantment
drips after all from the full voluptuous fruits
of a ripe and radiant destiny yet to be conceived

and still I follow its gleam, rapt in a ray of in hope.

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