The Goddess from Africa

A whirlpool of pink and blood-red,
Lips pushing out with such voluptuousness,
So alive,
I can almost see them pulsating

A Lioness,
Majestically, swiftly moving in the savannah,
Her paws, her legs, her torso, her neck extending to her head,
All moving in a finely tuned succession,
Orchestrated by the hand of God

Her face,
Expecting nothing, accepting everything,

A rich terrain of calm attentiveness,

At the ready to effortlessly devour your 

soul at any moment

Her womanhood,

Such a potent femininity,

So enticing, 

Lacing every strand of muscle,

Every ligament,

Every bone in her body

I wonder if she knows this,

If she's even aware, if she realizes in feeling,
A fraction of the reality which through her manifests

I wonder if it is even possible for us

to contain the realization of our own Godliness