Morrigan

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Suddenly,

I am crying -

weeping into

no one’s arms

but my own.

Sliding down

cabinetry until

my legs tuck to

chest.

The kitchen floor

is cold.

Dogs come and

lap at tear-laden

cheeks.

I miss you.

***

What do I know

of being a woman

or a corvid feathered

black?

**

Upon an

emerald isle

I declared my love

for you

Cu Chulainn.

And, like on the battle

grounds of Magh Tureadh

and Mag Tured,

a war began

to rage within my soul.

Then came the hag -

bloodied and raw,

with a knowing

but unpracticed

death.

Your blessing healed.

For a time.

Agony.

Let not again you see

the Washer at the Ford

or the three goddesses

force dog flesh upon you.

I never more want

to settle on your

shoulder as a bird.

May I eternally be

the woman

at your side.

Re-turn to me.

I will bare my breasts

and offer up my own

heart for your

ecstatic victory

feast.

(c) 2003-2010/Jamie K. Reaser

_________________________

Note: This poem is based on the love story of the
Celtic goddess of battle, strife, and fertility - Morrigan
(from Gaelic Mor Rigan: Great Queen). She is often depicted
with ravens or shape shifting to/from raven form.