Nekhebet, Vulture Goddess of Crone Moon, full, fat, hungry,
Perched upon a single branch of brittle death, shining feathers
Stroked to silver by the Full Moon’s Glow, darkly brooding above,
Nekhebet smiles not from an efficiently curved, razor-edged beak,
Ebony eyes glittering yet with no glee; reflecting starlight eons past,
In mind’s eye, She squawks, screeching ancient mysteries for the wise,
Darkly mourning human despair, depression, anguish and broken dreams,
Yet, Nekhebet cannot fix what one will not ask; so she waits,
An Ancient Vulture Goddess, yearning, hungry, ignored by the unready,
And ever on alert and listening for a cry in the darkness sent skyward,
By one willing, worthy, avowing acceptance of the vulture’s gifts.
THEN, the time of despairing ends; the broken heart beseeches . . .
“At long last, I am ready, un-break my heart, heal my life, for my rope
Has frayed, its strands unraveling and rotted; I shall soon fall into darkness.”
THEN, it is time for the ancient vulture goddess to speak of her gift . . .
When I slashed your throat with my beak and you refused to speak your truths
—You learned and found your true voice.
When I plucked out your eyes and when you would not see
—You saw with new eyes and understood.
When I gouged your heart with sharp talons and left it bleeding
—You stayed fast and heeded the wisdom in heart’s voice.
When all you had in life, I laid bare, shattered and savaged
—Your courage healed you and all no longer seemed lost,
You stand now upright before me, boldly and in pure truth,
Once more whole, elastic and strong enough to face me without fear;
Truth . . . THAT is the GIFT I give you!
Trust in Magical Knowing . . . THAT is the GIFT you give ME!
