Yellow Eyes

She is the Eagle, yellow eyed,
fierce sharp, great pinioned.
Sometime companion of Ravens,
thought and memory, who fly
seeking knowledge of the world.
Black eyed, in the dark seeing
lies, which like clouds obscure
the pin bright stars whose truth
pierces the the empty abysm
of times unspooling ribbon,
binding the past, knotting the world
into forms unchanging which wait,
for the great bird of prey, 
talon tearing, to free them.


She is the promise of immortality.
Bearing within her the secrets
of bearing and raising,
of life and death,
Girl. Woman. Crone.
You desire her in her youth,
but she will not have you
nor any other man.
For she has listened at the knee
of Sofia, and has learned
the lies of men and the wisdom
to be deaf to your entreaty.
For she has nothing to gain
from men
and much to lose.


She is the rock upon which men 
break themselves 
inviolate as the granite 
upon which the storms fury
spends itself in futile force
wave after wave
till fury spent they die
away in mist 
and return to the sea


She is the Keeper of Secrets.
Dwelling in the solitude of her mind,
moving from room to room
where are kept the boxes
of truth and falsehood,
for the one entwines the other
as the nightshade a fruit tree
sweet and deadly life and death
within the space of a single thought.


She waits now, one, 
with the two,
who wait before the door.
Fastclosed against the souldeath 
with the shout of ten thousand warriors,
borne in the dreamship 
from the sea of night.
Thought and memory
patient to speak with One Eyed.
She not so patient seeks entrance.
Gate and door remain fast shut.
Until the Keybearer come.