Spring

By: Tamarix Banfili
of Juniper Grove

Persephone stirs from Hades-induced sleep and stretches out her Mother-of Pearl arms long seashell fingers touch the blue moons of March The ides glide silently past Impotent against the sun-smile awakening of the sleeping queen of hell.

Hades scowls and with his dark sceptre rages angry ice and howling wind above and dark cold below

But his time is past and Demeter triumphs

as her daughter languidly returns to her embrace. There is no man or God who can penetrate the love of the Mother for her own.

Soon Persephone will kiss the Earth, not her husband, and we shall all ache with the tenderness of her flowered lips.