A Riddle

Anon

The smooth curve of a woman's hip
stroked by a black gloved hand
back arched in love
echoing the fertile land.
Who am I?

The steel sword of war
flashing in the noonday sun
pounded from a plow-share
wielded by a beggar's son.
Who am I?

The sweet smell of resinous incense
rises from the censer
held aloft by a child
given to a woman beyond censure.
Who am I?

The joyous call of laughter
echoed from friend to friend
and from brother to brother
in the joy of fellowship, and no sorrow to spend.
Who am I?

The salt tang of shed blood
fresh from pass'ed life
drips from the lover's hand
which hold the wind-sharp knife.
Who am I?

The bright echo of stars
lying on the becalmed sea
reflections of The Lady
who loves all, and leaves free.
Who am I?

The center point of all that live
always moving and never still
sire of all action
progenitor of every will.
Who am I?

Hawk-headed Lord of force and fire
flame-feathered wings cup the morning wind
a raptor's battle cry shatters the early silence
the child's twin is mute from forever till the end.
Who am I?