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Poem of Milk and Blood -- wynn manners

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  • Wynn Manners
    Poem of Milk and Blood [Mary Magdalene Perspective] Upon her left breast, hungry, this child of their love, milk upon her lips, smiling... Pensive Mary
    Message 1 of 1 , Jun 21, 2012
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      Poem of Milk and Blood


      [Mary Magdalene Perspective]

      Upon her left breast, hungry,
      this child of their love,
      milk upon her lips, smiling...

      Pensive Mary Magdalene,
      love-stroking her daughter's head
      born with his dark hair, silken-
      soft to feel... like his had been...

      The thought of *Him*!
      Taking her back in time
      when the child he had fathered
      had been 3 months in her womb.

      She could smell the danger...
      see it in the watchful soldiers' eyes,
      in the slits of the reptile-eyes of Caiaphas...
      "Oh my God! You're looking at me!"
      Mocking & triumphant... gloating eyes...
      "I never meant to look into them!"
      Corruption that chilled her to the core.

      Now turning to face the whole scene,
      breathless in an agony that stabbed
      like nails into her heartbleeding...
      choking back the wailing cries of horror,
      the keening torment torturing all four
      of them... *Him*... His mother... John...
      her... was their child feeling it,
      in the protectiveness of her womb?
      They could slit it open in an instant
      with one of their swords...

      She rocks their daughter to sleep,
      singing to her in her arms,
      her breasts still leaking sweet milk.

      "Milk of stars," Yeshua had once said to her...
      the Milky Way all the Way
      to Goddess encompassing the Cosmos,
      ...the Goddess Way, thru all time past & ahead,
      now & the next Dream of Womanity-to-Come.

      Milk of life-seeds... the cream of him
      into her love-chalice to mix with the
      nectar of her loving him
      passionately, completely...

      Remembering... so many vagrant memories
      while the Winds of Change kept blowing...
      far... far from what was once "home"...

      Now it had become an empty feeling
      rather than anything cosmic.
      It had been cosmic with *Him*...
      before the total devastation
      that still haunted her nightmares
      with an ever-changing phantasmagoria of
      horror that kept returning
      to bleed her dreams
      into quaking awakening.

      She had *seen* him -- alive again,
      after the bleeding, after the dying...
      but still the nightmares came...

      His life's strength... draining away..
      Taking his life like that...
      Death was just a dirty black field...
      and the hovering Dark would not listen...

      Now... too many hundreds of miles
      from where their life had been...
      sleeping the nights in a bed empty of Him...
      feeling that something once so real was dead...
      yet loving Him... so intensely...
      wanting everything to be, again,
      like it *had* been... too briefly, abruptly passed...
      in the face of the long lonely sorrowing ahead...

      Reaper, Reaper... what do *you* glean
      out of all of this misery?

      ~~wynn manners
      24.March.2011

      http://www.facebook.com/pages/Seeking-Mary-Magdalene/102467599878534
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