At dusk Demeter
becomes afraid
for baby Persephone
lost in that hell
which she herself created
with her love.

Excess of love--
the woman's curse,
the curse of loving
that which causes pain,
the curse of bringing forth
in pain,
the curse of bearing,
bearing always pain.

Demeter pauses, listening for her child--
this fertile goddess
with her golden hair, bringing forth
wheat and fruit and wildflowers
knee-high.
This apple-breasted goddess
whose sad eyes
will bless the frozen world,
bring spring again--
all because she once
walked through the night
and loved a man, half-demon,
angel tongued,
who gave her
everything she needed to be wise:
a daughter,
hell's black night,
then endless
spring.

© Erica Mann Jong

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