Helm Our Days

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Helm Our Days

Poem — An Invocation to The Mother #2

Hurry O men from the sleeping drowse,
Waken your thoughts to the sunrise hour,
For the night has yielded darkling powers,
Our fields covered with their poison flower.

Sharpen O men your wills to steel,
Hammer resolve by an ardour’s fire,
Yield not to the lower passion’s call,
Burnish your bosoms to calls of war.

Strap O men your sandals, prepare the car
That on the roads of destiny must run,
Battling fates by a power greater
Of Her who is the Golden Sun.

Rise O men for the hour is near
When the conch is sounded from heaven,
Raise the sigil and Her name’s banner
To vanquish the foe by an assault sudden.

Summon O men with supplicant lips
Our Archeress with the tremendous bow,
Who shoots the arrow of time through spaces
To master all fates with our lives in tow.

Helm our days forever O Mother,
This black siege on our lives Thou must sunder.