Saturn
Your eyes are as wise as the world
Your lips are a mockery
Of paint, your hair is curled
With the shape of the pottery
Of ancient Thrace, your face
I have seen when convolutes
Of meteor dust have swirled
Between the flowing roots
Of Yggdrasill, I know
The thoughts you have dreamed and lost,
For I am he whose foe
Is king of the giants, Frost.

— Grady L. McMurtry
10/2/41 e.v.

Originally published in Thelema Lodge Calendar, April 1991