Clearing the pathway for destiny: A poem 

I’ve been walking with a sickle 

clearing the undergrowth 

to pave the way for destiny 

I don’t want to marry the moon 

to be my providence, 

smiling villainously at me, 

like blood on my hands. 

I won’t leave (I know who is) my true consort and  

soulmate behind, even though 

I’ve often had to relinquish love 

for its own survival; all the gold 

of encumbrances that I cherished  

should bedeck the vista of my soul. 

I see further and backwards (like a Janissary) 

making a mockery of the succession  

of time zones. This should be the inheritance 

of the worthy. Even my heirlooms  

must be exchanged like batons 

between father and son, son and father 

and mother and daughter-in-law 

without any interludes of treachery. 

These truths are unfolded by me 

to demand their propitiation 

in return for all my sacrifice 

That I should get the glory I deserve 

or there must be wanton destruction! 

I no longer want to struggle 

in a forest of treachery 

and have the python of evil 

wrap around me, God, 

and crush my bones to their futility!