The Devil whispers quietly
in the chilly morning breeze,
My name is spoken silently
amongst the ancient trees.

In a voice so primitive,
seldom heard, more seen
by eyes that are now opened wide
by the Primitive within.

In that demon whisper
the Angels sing their praise
of long dead gods and demigogs
with long forgotten names.

I take my place among them,
these goddesses and gods,
and find myself thrown back to earth
to dwell within the common mob.

“Why, then?” I ask,
“Why, then, this great gift given?”
“Why not to join you here on earth?”
“Why not make this place Heaven?”

Silence is the answer,
save the demon whisper,
which coerces and carresses
and convinces that it’s different.

But my howling primitive
and ancient sacred soul commands;
“Away with you, both gods and devils!”
For now I understand.

Neither gods,
nor devils,
nor alchemists,
nor goddesses,
we are.

We are the Living Universe,
a greater power by far.

A Fury and a Temptress.
Creator, Lord, and Light.
Pilfering Benefactor.
Virgin Concubine.
Master and Destroyer.

And whispers of the Devil
in the chill
at the end of night.

Published by J M Greff

J M Greff is the rambling author, trucker philosopher, peace loving hippie, spiritual warrior, backpacking pantheist, wandering minstrel, and poet fool who created A Caravan of One for you. View all posts by J M Greff