“Man is a beauty born of woman.”
When cascading waters left whispers of loneliness:
swelling, stolen life!
A transformation takes place near the strangled body.
Carry homes on your backs
I am incomplete, yet sovereign amongst these lies.
The poem presents the queerest process
before the Shekinah:
unknown light, unknown feminine lamp of time.
His body waits at the threshold assuming the glory of personal peace.
When the Shekinah finds him, he is dead.
The body of God: lips the soul can kiss with fervor.
I wince at this face
and the glorious stupidity of Man, that human king.
Male God! Keep your hazy life within its own sphere.
Your body rots on the horizon—
there is no ‘living” God, no man to live to tell my murderous tale.
Shekinah -- Pat Fulmer
[Inspired by the murderer of God in Thus Spake Zarathustra. The murderer in this case leaves God's body to be discovered by his feminine aspect, the Shekinah. It's based on the Kabbalic tradition of mysticism. I often reverse roles of male and female and the way literature utilizes them while staying within the traditional conceptions.]