Fresh Poetry ~ “The Maidenhead Syndrome”

Jennifer HudsonSeven fires lit cheer
departure by the
boat
for unsuspecting souls; prayers sung to the
stolen sister
for shame of common
surrender.
Sea-wind strings,
dissonant under strains of competing
harmony; winds gust
without navigator nor mercy.

Are fruits of the Divine
so small?

 

Leeched from this brackish air,
medieval guilds built a love
of brass & cubits, the wood stolen with no
praise
for Mother Water;
no gratitude for the bounty of the mountain’s
shadow.
Nailed upon the helm of this man’s ship
the siren shivers.
Toxic in paradox she suffers a fool’s
heroics—she is but vessel,
the centrifuge—daughter
of divine breath & great love extinguishes
all fear
of death.

With the sacrifice of saints
yearning to once again release hypnotic
chords, waves
of wisdom’s almighty power,
when water assumes a ravenous present,
brooding whirlpools of chaos;
softly the maidenhead
weeps.
Her water makes this vassel buoyant;
makes the journey possible.
She will bring song to
new lands though method remains
pregnant
with danger; calm thy waters
virgin of the sea.
It is the evil wind she fears—this
chaos to chase away paradox
of sorcery;
every fixed heart—she will sing to
purify their
dirty tides, the uncontrolling
river & bellows
of madness, crying up from a
rushing deep—collapse now into foam;
christened unit.

The sea is vast,
soaring to heights
of worship.

{Photograph by Jennifer Hudson}