by Janine Canan
May the demons not crouch on your chest, says the second.
The eyes of the third Goddess well with tenderness.
The fourth is radiant with young life.
Very hard, utters the fifth.
More work to be done--says the sixth, first sit in the sun.
The seventh delights, Is your heart shattering?
The eigth bursts with righteous indignation.
The ninth will not judge.
The tenth Goddess calls, I will come!
The eleventh sighs, There is nothing to be done.
Beyond this pain, coos the twelfth, are treasures.
Everything, proclaims the thirteenth Goddess,
is perfect as it is!
Source: "Her Words: An Anthology of Poetry About The Great Goddess" Edited by Burleigh Muten
