Resonance

Say, you could call it the Holy Spirit, was coming thru the Great Mother, in colour, in force of laughter, as if channelled from a hilly spire, as if sat on the grass beside your car, as if riding with you, heart near, dear, and I can see you, light, in your dark lair,

And oh my! The dumb conjectures, how stupid they are, such mirth, at her, snake in the grass, the Mother, she can twist, change shape, thrust at the most cunning Liar, and run, thrilled in a muster, and laugh like a maiden, and shake them off, as if from her hair,

And I, find the humour, call her life or Holy Spirit as continuing, as on in the battle fray one more, soon to be fallen, the Holy Spirit coming thru me, in life resonating god or goddess, as the powerless think, we have her – in stupid conjecture, already fertiliser, I laugh, and earth carries on, knowing her rhythms, cause life is fun, I could scream in delight at her:

G, I tell yer, my own holy one