Descent to Hel
The oven of Hel’s kitchen,
Where the staff of life is baked
In her regeneratively consuming flame,
Beckons me to enter and to taste her twisted loaf.
Never overdone nor under—
This bread of perfecting is
So delectable that merely one bite
Emblazons the eyes,
Enraptures the countenance, and
Elucidates my Self!
Such bliss to be enfolded in Hel’s warm embrace,
To be engulfed in the Maternal abundance
And to drink from her breast
The spark of life
That will one day intensely burn
As the creative fire,
Born and reborn
Of Woman.
(C) 14 October 1994, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.
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