Sacred Masks

Before me rises the god, the face of glory,
Horrible and awesome, warding off evil,
Destroyer of obstacles, bestower of success,
Guardian of the hazardous threshold.

Lord of paradox and disguise,
I am the actor in the temple theatre,
Priest and redeemer, prancing like a goat.

I am the larva, the spectre of man,
The seething turmoil in the cocoon
Before the butterfly’s innocent flight.

All is saltation, the dancer’s leap into space,
The sudden transformation born of pain,
The next move in the chess game.

Through the eyes of my mask I see into the other world
Where time and space run backwards
And custom is reversed.
I hold the universe in balance,
In each hand the eternal opposite.

The death mask glows in the sepulchre
While the mourner dances in his dead brother’s place.
I set my mask upon the temple pillar
And stand at the centre in prayer.

I am the satyr, now solemn now merry,
Contained, then abandoned, laughing through tears,
Noble and ribald, graceful and gauche,
Prancing to the song of the flute.
Tragedy and comedy meet in me,
In the circle round the altar.
I raise my phallus in salute to the sun
And charge out of the woods in season,
Hairy with knowledge and delight.

I am the centaur bearing branches,
Dancing from dusk until dawn
At he carnival of liberated wants.
The drum and the flute lead me inwards,
My fury rends intruders limb form limb,
I offer sacrifice with a piercing screaaam.
I love the flesh of mortal women,
In my madness there is justice and wisdom,
I am curer of evils, righter of wrongs.

I am Hercules the hunter in his second skin,
Lion-headed hero sworn to great labours,
Born a man, died a god, made immortal,
Suffering uneasy alliance with the heavens,
Bearing the burden of duty in sorrow,
Tormented tormentor, threshing the rage within.

I am Perseus in the shrieking Gorgon’s lair,
Averting my eyes from her fatal gaze
And striking off her head with an oath.
Henceforth her fearsome magic is mine,
To rectify injustice and restore fair balance
Until the meted hour of unfortunate death.

I am the man-lion with the Third Eye;
My fire, turned outward, annihilates the world,
Turned inward, it ignites the soul for God.
I anoint my forehead with soma,
Drink the milk of heaven and ascend,
Shedding this ragged skin with a beatific smile.
The honey-mead of vision pervades me,
The soul’s ambrosia renders me immortal,
Attracts all things desired, transfigures the senses,
Weds man and woman in body and spirit;
Sweet blossom that falls on the night of the full moon
Unites in me the warrior and the seer.

I tread the left-handed spiral as a woman,
Dark queen of horses, mistress of the water-jar,
Naked at the sacred pillar in the temple,
Ripening with the fruits of the earth.

I am the glaring gnashing Medusa,
Belted with snakes, caduceus held aloft,
Mistress of the spring orgies,divine androgyne,
Austere on my throne flanked by lions.

I wear the Gorgon mask and dance in season,
Babbling tremendous prophecies, on fire with hydromel;
The twin serpents wind up my spine to the skies
And the blue dolphin leaps from the waves of my mind.