Poetry: The Preacher Man

The preacher man with fire and brimstone looked at me

‘Unless you are saved, you are going to burn in the fires of hell’ he cried.

Full of the self-righteous piety of his steely eyed faith

Shadows casting their projection around him like a cloak

I felt his fury, his scorn, his depraved need to fill the vacuum in his soul

The whirlwind of his emotion drew me inwards to anchor and respond

‘True’ I cried.

‘But I have already burned in the fires of hell’ – I replied

And the Personhood who stands before you is what is left behind

when all else is stripped bare and has been burned away

In that moment, the Dragon awoke in me,

with her forked tongue of fierce love and icy gaze

The Goddess had come to re-claim her lost child

With one bite she swallowed him whole

Releasing his fear, hate and loathing back into the embers of an earthly embrace

Her breath like a soft mist rising

(C)2019 John F. Doherty

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