I live in a Village of Goddesses

I Live in a Village of Goddesses

When I was a child
this village was filled with simple men and women:
fishermen catching halibut off the shores,
beekeepers tending the bees,
Hatmakers making the hats,
Farmers harvesting squash and potatoes,
cooks frying slivers of garlic in the pan.

As we grew up, we studied algebra, physics, and science,
geology, philosophy, world history.
We read Homer, Dante, Virgil, and Ovid.
We gave our imagination
to the mythologies of our studies:
As Zeus
I became the Swan to Leda.
I was Pygmalion, and she Galatea.
We became the very gods and goddesses
that we studied.

I reflect today that I am not a god but a farmer,
An artist, a builder of structures.
I am a simple man.

And yet, all around me the women
remain as goddesses,
Flowers wrapped around their bodies.

I see goddesses everywhere I look!
How fortunate that I live in a village of goddesses!

Truly, there is a bountiful abundance of divinity
to worship everywhere I look!

Why is it, then, that my strong desire
on this night
is to sleep under the moon
with a simple, earthy woman?
A woman that reminds me of the soil,
lusty, natural, grounded and unadorned.