Back to the temple
It’s time to go back in time
To change the flame
Back to the fire within
Back to the fire within
Re: Wind Re: Wild
Re: Wind Re: Wild
Re: Wind Re: Wild Re: Wyrd!

Sentenced to death for heresy
She was burned at the stake, as a witch
Bird skull filled with red flight feathers
She was stoned to death, as a witch
Capsized bottles of wishes
Flesh-hook, worms and fishes; she was third-eye
Beheaded, for being a witch, thrown
From a tower, defenestrated
In a hour-glass shower, of falling women
Called a witch, a witch

A poisonous apothecary
Scary, as a witch, hung by a rope, no hope
For being a diviner of fossils, onyx eggs,
Bones, and rare shells – she was drowned
For sorcery, lycanthropy—called a witch, a witch,
A cunning woman, for sewing a severed head
With a cross-stitch stitch, she met the net of unfair
Ends, by the dark of the moon
For kissing datura, for knowing the taste of apple
The eye of needle, the gaze of obsidian—a witch, a witch
For want of wonder, the church killed her
To erect Lady-shrines over Mother-temples
For the purse, the cathedral curse
For saliva of snake
She was burned at the stake
Cause she wouldn’t obey, obey
She wouldn’t, she couldn’t obey

Perish the thought
Of paying to pray, as we become the prey
And our prayers become theirs
To sell back to us
Back to the temple
It’s time to go back in time
To change the flame
Back to the fire within
Back to the fire within
Re: Wind Re: Wild
Re: Wind Re: Wild
Re: Wind Re: Wild Re: Wyrd!

And her crime was?
She drank of clear waters
She drank the waters of clarity
And as she was the river
She was outcast, and I hear she wore
Black clothing and odd costumes
She dressed in the hoots of owls
As Oak takes root, she howls
To the moon and the turning tide
Of orgasms from steamy cunts
And wanton wombs, of horny eggs
In the fumes of sensual songs
Of longing, plain as a leaf picked
From a garden surrounded by Yew
And pressed between her breasts
Like a flower dressed in striped stockings
With jeweled salamanders
In her hair, and oh the prayer
And oh the prayers
That killed her
As they killed her, again and again

Back to the temple
It’s time to go back in time
To change the flame
Back to the fire within
Back to the fire within
Re: Wind Re: Wild
Re: Wind Re: Wild
Re: Wind Re: Wild
Re: Wyrd!

©Sheri-D Wilson
The Book of Sensations, Frontenac House (2017)