Tug the Veil
An Ode to the Goddess
An Ode to the Goddess
Behind her veil no mortal hath glean.
Though she tease of light, ever bright and sheen,
She keeps this reserve for weary eyes,
Still in the deep, found teeming alive.
In trance awakes that coming slumber,
To bypass elation and the thrill of wonder.
Reveal the terrace, next level high,
A step to crawl until the mouth is dry.
We cry oh mother, oh goddess, please!
If only once we might have that eye to see!
And inward drawn, we'd pass our gaze,
Through storm and haze this mortal hurricane.
She pulls and toils, yet remains unmoved,
So vast so subtle, a strike of no single tune,
To all she births joy and ruin, sorrow,
And there again she bends, handing us tomorrow.
Of earth and air, under sea in flame
Within her and nigh, elemental change.
Might we soar and soar, future and past found wanting,
Til the valley breaks and the winters' drone,
Onward and far, to time and glory's home?
Fall and break, thrice again we rise!
Chance to see her flurry, sight as keen as gods?
That sparkling crest, crowned divine in glory.
To which death might yet, still fail to bear,
That light of you, my goddess, I'll take a share.
Inspired by the Quote:
“And the shrine of Athena at Saïs (whom they consider the same as Isis) bears this inscription, ‘I am all that hath been, and is, and shall be; and my veil no mortal has hitherto raised.”’ - Plutarch (46 - 119 CE)