Our Lady of Dreams:
The Black Madonna
by Zayra Yves
Love is her point of entry
between a pomegranate seed
and a curve –
where it slices the heart
hammers two halves into one
then flattens it out again
juiced to the bone, in need
of confessions and weeping.
Our Lady of the Broken
But no one dares to complain
since the Black Virgin’s heavy body
is not ascending to heaven
is not wearing the adornments of bliss
but burning with persistence
and reminds the bleeding of uncertainty
and the need for it.
Our Lady of the Un-manifest
She does not utter plentitudes from her blackness,
and from the pools of her eyes,
marked by mystery, are no visions of color
or streaks of luminescence;
no need for what has already happened
or might not ever be.
Our Mother of Consumption and Remorse
Her darkness is a stranger
someone might meet on a side road
by mere happen chance, by accident,
while looking for little misshapen grains;
searching for spices and skulls,
and those rare precious things
as small gestures between two people
unfamiliar with one another
but craving a mystical day of union
like water and open mouths.
Our Lady of Roots and Seeds
Pleasure is concealed behind her face
so nothing can be seen of her meeting with God,
except the Divine child destined for a crown of thorns.
And, since the Enlightenment failed
everyone is on a journey into the abyss of Self –
chanting silent prayers and burning on altars.
Our Mother of Beautiful Losers
Our Mother of the Damned and Confused
Our Mother of the Emptiness and Inevitable Change
Our Mother of Compassion
She does not have a single name
that is uttered in daylight or covered sweetly,
because no one understand her origins
and only the naked walk with her in the flames.
We sometimes call her The Void…
Our Lady of a Dark Star
Our Lady of Skeletons
Our Lady of Caves
without a stained glass window
or a litany of Sunday’s unholy afternoons,
neither a rose in the belly of the soul.
Our Mother of All Things
She gives birth to an untidy universe
peels the robes of an unknown mistress
as Love forcefully enters
with a loud crack that scars and chants
that seduce, ravage, swallow, and devour –
Our Lady of the Mysteries
enshrined in the depths of our hearts
to consume us wholly submerged
in the subconscious dying to ourselves
in Love eternally.
The Black Madonna image art copyright 2005-2006 by Contemplicate