Show me, gods…
My ears are open;
My eyes perceive as best they can
Your design, my design
Having a discussion.
We weave something,
For you lack any desire
To make me your puppet.

So feminine are these gods,
As soon as I stopped clinging
To egotistic deities
(Power, wealth, dominance),
Some sort of mastery emerged
As I tended to my space.

Often people, conniving or kind,
Tell me all they want,
And I listen, mind sorting,
Tossing away weird junk,
Storing pearls of light under my pillow.