January 2, 2011

Althea hauls and skins the beast

and coaxes spark for evening’s feast;

she stirs a gruel fit for a god,

served to men late formed from clod.


Answering a creator’s call,

she paints the bison on a wall,

lit by flames that leapt and played,

freed by a titan who disobeyed.


She wields the magic that colors night

(struggling with the stolen light);

deep inside her shaman’s cave,

she shares the crime no god forgave.


Flare flings shadows through the haze,

like warnings hurled at her,    or praise;

what means Althea’s beastly show?

man’s calling is to hunt,     and  know.


Like her sisters of the past

who saved us from the icy blast,

her stronger soul must never tire,

the female,     keeper of the fire.

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