AMATERASU, Robin Scofield

Amaterasu: Japanese Goddess who Hides in a Cave 
While Crops Die until Her People Hold up a Mirror, 
and She Rejuvenates at the Sight of Herself
by Robin Scofield

When the sun’s rays decline, low through the kitchen 
window, I close the blinds of the cave, but I keep
my mirror in the closet. The cape of blue stars
holds roses in winter. The hands of Juan Diego open it,
and the Virgen’s eyeslashes cast up like the sun’s rays. 
The cave she looks for is filled with sprigs of new birth,
for in all dark things we have the beginning 
of nothing because nothing can be forgotten
or begotten without the darkness plus the one band
of light that goes through the mirror to light
on the spirals that people carve in order
to calculate the rate at which time returns
to the dark unforgetting, the rebegotten.
In these times of cloud and rain, shadows lift,
and that one beam of light comes in through 
the kitchen window. Low as the declining rays,
my mood dwindles into the ghosts who have
been unborn till now, midnight of the year 
when a mirror full of light rises at the cave entrance, 
and nothing can be forgotten because it is
a cape full of roses, this darkness, the sun’s decline,
hidden in a cave, something else again.
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About barkingsycamores 183 Articles
Barking Sycamores is a literary journal entirely edited and operated by queer neurodivergent people of color. We publish poetry, artwork, short fiction (beginning with Issue 3), creative nonfiction (beginning with Issue 8), and hybrid genre work (beginning with Issue 9) by emerging and established neurodivergent writers as well as essays on neurodiversity and literature and book reviews (beginning with Issue 10).

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