When I am an old lady <br />the young men <br />will come to me <br />& sit trembling <br />at my trembling <br />feet <br />saying: <br /> <br />you must have been <br />beautiful <br />when you were young; <br />you must have been <br />a wonderful lover- <br />& perhaps <br />they will still feel <br />that current <br />which you say <br />passes from me <br />to you <br />& which you give back <br />doubled <br />on our wild <br />afternoons. <br /> <br />The madness <br />will still be there- <br />the current of sex, <br />of poetry, of heroism- <br />which is only <br />another name <br />for God <br />passing through us- <br />God, Goddess, <br />whoever <br />we call Her- <br /> <br />that ancient lady <br />who sits above the world <br />spinning out <br />our destinies. <br /> <br />She looped your life <br />around mine; <br />she took the weft <br />of your need <br />& gave me <br />the bright threads <br />to weave you <br />into my life- <br /> <br />old Circe <br />playing music on her loom, <br />& weaving men <br />into her glittering <br />tapestry. <br /> <br />Woven into her cloth, <br />still, <br />they feel free. <br />Bewitched by her poems, <br />still, <br />they feel strong. <br />Drunk on her Pramnian wine, <br />still, <br />they feel clear- <br />as if they were marching <br />through life <br />alone. <br /> <br />But it is she <br />who guides them, <br />leading them <br />now by their cocks, <br />now by their hearts, <br />now by swinishness- <br /> <br />but what does she feel <br />alone <br />on her cloud throne? <br />She feels lonely. <br />Lonely to know <br />all she knows <br />& lonely even being loved <br />by so many <br /> <br />sleepy <br />beasts.<br /><br />Erica Jong<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/when-i-am-an-old-lady/
