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."
Planetary Signatures 