Smoke, it is all smoke
In the throat of eternity.. .
For centuries, the air was full of witches
Whistling up chimneys
On their spiky brooms
Cackling or singing more sweetly than Circe
As they flew over rooftops
Blessing & cursing their
Kind
We banished & burned them
Making them smoke in the throat of god;
We declared ourselves
«enlightened.»
«The dark age of horrors is past,»
Said my mother to me in 1952
Seven years after our people went up in smoke
Leaving a few teeth, a pile of bones
The smoke curls and beckons
It is blue & lavender
& green as the undersea world
It will take us, too
O let us not go sheepishly
Clinging to our nakedness
But let us go like witches sucked heavenward
By the Goddess' powerful breath
& whistling, whistling, whistling
On our beautiful brooms
I absolutely LOVE this song ... I was so lucky to have caught it on a radio show many years, otherwise I probably would never have heard it. It is so beautiful.
This is one of the greatest pieces of poetry - somehow made even better with the Daous. I wish an actual video was created around this piece to give it some visual texture.