FROM ISIS TO OSIRIS WHEN SHE FINALLY GREW WINGS AND FLEW by Tawni Waters

Yellow grasses, soggy with sun 
wonder 
what has become of their god 
who stands with his hands cut off, 
staring into the abyss, 
entranced by some far away 
promise of gold.  
My love, I have grown old 
watching you cast your crown 
to the ground 
despising our mother’s light.  
The fight 
has left 
your eyes.  
Vaguely, I remember 
the fiery thing you were.  
In my dreams, I can almost recall 
why I called you 
the bull of heaven.  
Now, tarnished one, you have broken 
all your vows save the vile one you made
to love death more than life.  
You told me to leave you,
believing night could have light
without the moon.
Your true wife ascends to her place in another sky.  
Resurrection god, you die and die and die.
Not noticing the encroaching moonless night, you sell 
your sacred light 
for gold plated lead 
and wallow in malignant mud 
with money hungry mortals.