Transformation (a poem)



Completely dismantled

– all the stock taken out of the cupboards.

Strip them bare

Pull apart my knowings

– rip them open, let the connections be severed.

Expose all the parts, every cell

to the sunlight


throw away

move it all around

mix it, mix it

skim the dross


With mortar and pestle pound Her

Is She mortified sufficiently yet?

Has She seen it all yet?

Pound Her more, take it from Her


Like panning for gold ……

… is there any?

What will be left?

The grit, the metal, the stones

found at the bottom of the wash

This is the new composition.

Begin composing it now.

Write it, sing it, melt it back together,

re-Form it, re-Cognize it,

breath it, dance it.

Let it grow

Praise the Dark One who dismantled you dear

who took off your robes

exposed you

She took you apart

– because you lusted to know

Now She has filled your cells,

your blue print

with new possibility

– bled the poison

emptied the cup

that it may be filled.


Glenys Livingstone December 1995 C.E.

Image reference: Tomb Priestess 800 C.E., Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess.

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