The Filling

Underneath a palace table hungry dogs eat husks and wings;
Even twilight does not daunt them when the regal peacock sings
Songs of anger, songs of yearning, songs of drawing forth a knife—
Runic songs that bid the Presence come as fire to be our wife.
See, she vanquishes injustice! See, she turns things upside down!
Then the fiery Presence fills us, and at last we wear her crown!

 
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher