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Iron Pentacle Poem Cycle: Power Point #4 January 7, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Poem-A-Day.
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The power of the pause, of the bow strung tight
before archer’s release into the air.  Potency
of that little breath, somtimes stretched between
out breath and in, in breath and out.  Strength
of this icewater lupine God, right hand blackest
maroonest, forest-est point lives breathes, feeds
from this pause before the release.  The squirk
moment before unleashing the cumspurt, bestowed
on those I choose.  The power of the right words
said, the requried restraints applied, hurtful
exchanges truncated without engagement. Obatala’
coolheadeness descends, an androgynous grace
unassuming glory only witnessed by those attentive
to such.  Indeed, mine is a power quite subtle
at its best, though I’m not averse to the flashier
statement judiciously selected.  And balance with child
spontaneity, for Nimue flashfllod, lightning strike
does arise Venus-foam surprise as well.  Channels
opening will do that, as various gods inside this one
compete for the control panel, this corporeal being.

Cross-posted to ordinarysacred/livejournal.

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