THE WEAVE:
“Persephone, will you
tell me, about your little lamb?
I’ve never been, to the Garden,”
Minthe asks, as they play
backgammon…
Persephone recites a poem
she wrote, as she prepared
to leave her home...
"I have two true familiars. Not pets,
but living beings, who arrived
into my life, to teach me,
and I reluctantly received
with anxious arms. The first,
a sheep, born sometime after midnight
in the twilight after Ostara,
and the full moon in Libra. He is
just barely an Aries himself.
My father named him Lucky, as in
"Lucky to be Alive," and Loved
by me. Rams can be dangerous,
if you Love them. They grow
too tame, and unafraid.
They'll fuck you up
just trying to play, and if
they become too dangerous,
my father will kill them.
I do not pet the rams,
or speak to them in soft tones.
I do not speak to them at all,
but I feed them every day.
I make myself large,
and unpredictable, to keep them
wild, and safe from my father.
Lucky, is the only ram
I am allowed to Love the Way
I want. I found him curled up,
alone, on a bitter night,
pushed out and rejected
by his mother. My father
made me wait, almost 24 hours
before I took him. I had to keep
scooping him up, and tossing him back
to the mothers, desperately praying
one would give him what he needed,
as he bleated and became more weak.
It is painful, to watch
a newborn animal die, and I was
not willing to do it, if I could
help it. So I said, "Fuck
your rules, "and fed him,
and kept him in my laboratory.
He grew curled beneath my table,
nibbling on my tools.
It's not like having a dog.
Sheep imprint, and they don't
know how, or have any desire
to rest alone. He will know
me, for the rest of his life,
which will be long. He pays
for life and Love in manhood.
When he was 3 months old,
I carried him, into the barn,
where the vet sedated him,
and showed me how
to band a ram, "In case
I ever needed to do this
again." Lucky trusted me
so much, the whole process was
stressless, but I felt a twinge
of pain, as the needle broke
his skin, pierced by my own
betrayal. It took weeks
for his balls to fall off,
and he smelled like Death,
but it didn't seem to bother him,
and I refused to let it bother me,
when he snuggled in my arms.
This was the choice I made
so he could live, and I could Love
him. His horns stopped growing
when the hormones left him.
A perpetual youth, he brings
me, the medicine of play
and prancing. Other days,
nuzzling up against old Oaks,
in breezy pastures, we listen
to the Wind. Excited by ripe
Apples, we skip, and buck.
He shows me what it means
to be innocent, and eternally
present. He shows me Love,
alWays. He knows he is
not just a ram, but also a human.
Raised by hands, not hooves,
he has learned a foreign language
of touch. And so have I.
I have learned about the nibbles
of greeting, and the sniffs
that are hugs. I have learned
how a gentle head-butt means,
"I Love you," and that true
companionship means Nothing
at all, just standing still
in pastures, and letting
the sky turn, without a sound.
I have learned how we are not
that different. Loving peace,
and easily frightened, but he has
mastered the rebound, and I haven't
yet. I have learned, to be
a shepherd is to move slowly,
in wide arcs, just suggesting
a direction in the Way
you hold your ground.
I have witnessed how the sheep do
not want to escape, but be kept
safe. They do not know how
powerful they could be,
if only they rebelled a little,
and pushed against an unlocked
gate. Lucky knows this, human
that he is. He gets out
from Time to Time, and goes
on his own adventures, looking
for greener pastures, and for me.
When I leave here, and finally
push against my own unlocked
Garden, I cannot take him
with me. Again, that twinge,
of betrayal tweaks my chest;
knowing I have to leave him
to live his own life, between
two worlds, without a guide.
I've not yet the Earth to hold
him. He will be fine.
He has friends, and food,
and no real desire
to go too far,
expect in search
of me."