You are Enki’s child

who carved the Sun Stone

with a goat’s horn…


A mysterious warrior

bearing the people’s sorrow

amid Lord Shiva’s embrace.


On the third month’s

third day, you strangled

the serpent creating our universe.


Your mind is a pyramid.

Your tale’s the ocean.  Infinity

rests between your steps,


nestles into your many sets.

My positive approaches your negative

and adds up to the counter-intuitive.


You are the celestial ox

watering the earth:

a pure woman of emptiness.


The warring states are crying

upon your ramparts —

a trinity for nonbelievers.


While you sail across the heavens,

attack, withdraw, and reserve

yourself until my birth.


For more of Israfel Sivad’s poems, please go to: amazon.com/author/israfel-sivad