Trodden Goddess

You ride the bus like a sorrowful flock
Of geese who have long ago lost their way—
Gray and majestic in their slow advance,
They seem to hover forever in stillness.
You gather in this space like distilled droplets
Condensed against the glaring light of morning
That emanates from everywhere around you.
Sad, happy faces of primeval goddesses
Trodden down by the darkness. Wake up now,
Destroy the insanity that smothers you,
The wild schemes of sick men who have forgotten
Their mothers and their daughters—and become
Free, dakinis, creators—no, creatices
Of a new inextinguishable fire
Were we can all bathe again, like the children
Of Evolution, never staying still.
So I say to you, a wild, crazy man,
Lost like you in this meaningless morass:
Flap, flap your magnificent wings and fly.