There is a wooden spoon
gathered from the branch
of the Son
of Cedar
Shaped with strokes of swift
iron, deep cuts into the flesh
of the Son
of Cedar
Brought fully into form
made smooth with sand
inlaid with precious stones
soaked in fragrant oils
the fullest expression of the love-arts
of the Son
of Cedar
Given to the temple-priestess
of Inanna, Queen of Heaven and Earth
and the Underworld
Morning-star and Evening-star
all-consuming Goddess
of the Son
of Cedar
Used to prepare the poisoned
honey-wine, fermented with dusk-root, lies, and
blood. The mead of enchantment
given to the woodsmen
of Lebanon, sent to cut down the forests
of the Son
of Cedar
Abandoned in the sand, the place
of betrayal. The great trees
fell, cut to length, posts and beams
Her new temple, largest in the world
built with the magic
of the Son
of Cedar
Taken back by the earth
composted, digested, cleansed of poisonous
intent and bitter
sorrows, renewed with old
magic, soil-remembering the pure heart-wood
of the Son
of Cedar
Returned to the source
a long journey, finally placed in the scarred hands
of the Son
of Cedar
There is a wooden spoon
carrying the deep magic of returning, in the home
of the Son
of Cedar
