Holy
The hole is the holy
At the heart of the omen,
A gash at the neck
Of a neglected amen,
A tear in the mourning
That dried up the sun
Shedding light
Through the wound
To the womb
of the Crone
I am becoming,
Crowned between my legs
By this raw readiness,
My forgetting flesh
Birthing this
Rapturous rupture.
Holy is the hole
In the home of the heart
(The earth’s ear)
Poem by Sasha Siem. Siem is a writer and musician who has performed her work around the world. Her first two albums, Most of the Boys and Bird Burning, were recorded in Iceland with producer Valgeir Sigur√∞sson. She also teaches metaphysics and esoteric philosophy.