Barbórka

Barbórka – the Feast of Saint Bárbara de Nicomédia
on the 1700th anniversary of her Honor-Killing Execution
at the hands of Dioscorus, her father on December 4, 305 a.d.

An honor kill – for that is what ended her flight
And in the darkness that followed, we all remain–
–stunned into mute contemplation, seeking the light
We, Barbarians of the West, the innocent slain

For there are loose stones in walls that close in tight, cold
Taking the place of tombs, as we stare at the space

A river rushes by deep, privy to that old–
–underdark illuminated by that strange race

A small spider crawls up the tapestry of fate
For the heart-song is always at that narrow ledge–
–in the geometry of hate, we are all bait
The web of life a fragile affair, on edge
 
Here the roots quietly reach, and in the womb dream
Digging to the end where only blackness gives birth
And no one above ground can ever hear your scream
For here the heirs of the dwarves and trolls make their hearth

There is death here making love to time, a good wife
Who brews the evening draught to satiate the soul
Calm nerves – and a maiden who rebels at the knife
And drinks the waters of life, that which makes us whole
For what could she say to her father when he killed
Is not love the balsam to hate’s flame by faith willed?