I fight for what I believe is right
yet I am not a warrior
I defend the helpless innocent
without a feel of fear
I ask no man for pleasure
nor do I seek release
from those who know not love

My best of friends are nature spirits
nymphs and dryads, but to name a few
especially the poor Naiad Echo
whose weeping has been heard
by those who care
throughout the worlds

She loved Narcissus
through and through for naught
as her love echoed through
his empty heart
for all he ever saw
was his very own reflection
and never ventured past the mirror
of his own form's dimensions
or reached to touch the depths
that are the ground of all existence

until I, the huntress, Artemis
used her mighty, magic powers
and turned the hunter, Acteaon
into the pig he bore, the boar
that forever would be hunted down
by the very dogs he used
to find and kill
the innocence of nature's habitat

but I do not kill, oh no
I simply turn their fear back to themselves
and all the harm of weapons once devised
rides upon the waves of air
that move at my behest
curving in a circle
in cyclic signature of Earth herself
to strike each heart
that seeks to harm another

yet Echo, Echo, still she weeps
this precious heart and soul
of nurtured, natural innocence
even now that she has learned
of man's divisiveness
for the heart of one alone
beats just out of sync
with the greater heart of Earth itself

that joins in unadulterated worship
of the very rays of Sun itself
in loving so divine
the Sun shines brightly on and on
into the vast totality
of the heart of all eternity
for She receives His adoration
in the warm reciprocation
of devotion freely given and received

I am She
yet still, I live and breathe
magical and never quite believed
by any man that cannot see
the beauty and the artistry
of nature's innocence
that loves
so intimate and so complete
that death itself
just fades into Her mists

I will no longer hide in forest deep
for the innocence I seek to keep
unmolested and alive
lives within a world
of narcissistic amplitudes
as games of hunter and the hunted
are still devised by minds
ever stifled in complexity
that only seek to play and win
these games that need to end

for never can it be
that one heart wins
if any other loses

yet still, the wailing spirit
of a withering Narcissus
lives within the haunted shadows
that have yet to find the light of day
sensing whispers on the wind
that speak of pure delight
while reaching out in darkened dreams
to drink the blood of dark's deliverance
when all the shadows really seek
is their singular release from pain

Pain imposed by powers of the mind
inflated to a point sublime
that wishes nothing more
than to explode into their lives
within the very form of its deviser
and heal one and only one
no matter the destruction spent
in their explosion's wake

Still they seek the feminine
wishing to project their fear within
a form they think is only other
in their cult composed
of only masculine identity

Yet now, this time, at last arrived
within this dawn of all millenniums
brings Artemis alive again
as magic rises from the Earth herself
and Echo's voice is finally heard to speak
aloud of all the pitiful and weak
that do not dare to open up their hearts
and truly love a form composed of beauty
that seems to be so alien from what they are

This wisdom of the heart
is shared by every star
that glows in nighttime skies
seeking heart and soul and mind
to find pure form
for the stars have heard
each and every echo
of this nature's innocence

so now I pray in multi-colored hues
glistening softly, gently
in the darkness of the night
that perhaps a man might catch the sight
and sense of this deliverance from pain

Not for one alone, oh no
but for the sake of every form
that seeks to come to be
the future of infinity's delight . . .


Copyright© 2000 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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