TheBlindWriter

Fingers gliding over and around a ticking time bomb.
Pressing down onto the peak of an active volcano,
Nothing moves.
It all stands stalk still.
It waits silently to erupt and destroy.   

The rounded edges of this earthy goddess, 
interrupts the softness of feminine curves, 
And yet, 
there is a power -- 
a force, just waiting below the surface to be let loose,
to pour forth a lava flow of  malignant devastation,
Circling around and around, 
spreading disease to every living cell,
in the hopes that they too will die.

This goddess that shows herself as nature and growth and all things new,
is a fraud.
She stands stiffly alone,
Creating formidable barriers that isolate and create an image of a frightening, ugly hag.
And this hag 

... 

holds the power.
She knows the Fate of those who wait,
And she mocks and teases by pushing forth her comely bosom,
Showing off the softness and distracting depth of her cleavage.
She cares not for the crown of the volcano,
pushing upward through the oceanic crust.
She cares not for the Fear, 
that comes with the anticipation of a red hot lava flow.
She knows not of Fear and Death.
She mocks them as she grows taller and stronger.
And she waits. Silently.

There's nothing to do but let go,
And let the volcano erupt if it must.
But know, too, 
that sometimes, volcanoes stand strong and true, 
dormant in their solitude,
As serene and at peace as a true Goddess, 
holding her babe to her breast. 

— LM D’Lishes | 8/14/2024