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Idol,
Gede
I wrote this Poem to show
that my Gods aren't just stone statues~ - Gede
Blessed Be!
Swiftly moving,
hooded breach
Twigs snapping beneath my step
In my Sacred Space I reach
The stone, that sits with grace is let
You my idol,
in stone is carved
Your face is sweet and dark by light
And others say you leave me strayed
I am wrong and they are right?
Your sweetest
smile you fool me not
For even at the corners, curl
You frown this world, and laugh its rot
You wise old lines, you are so tall
For they don't
know this secret thing
That no soul of yours is in this stone
Or not encased in any ring
Or inside of which is pleasuring moan
For you are
these things, and not in place
No need to go to Sacred Space
For this world is your striking face
We are your own in cages encased
Your birds,
that are let free to nest
Your children lost to wilderness
In both waking and rest
And no one from other is the lest
And here I am
to stare at you
And you roll in laughter as all deceased
I take the mallet and be it done
And smash this statue to every piece!
By Gede Parma
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