Transformation Light
Lifting the dust,
Shapes whirling in a poisoned mind;
Blind,
Within a field I cannot trust,
Or free from bind.
The air spirits whisper:
Go down to the well that has no name.
Let down the pail within thy shame,
And bloody, fill,
That you might take
To Her,
That she might in her love transform,
Poison into light.
~ Gifts to the Goddess ~
Poetry of Innocence
