Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘symbiosis’

BRIGHTER THINGS

the wriggling of spirits
or the
mutterings of mitochondria
or
the pulse and heartbeat
of greater beings
upon whose breast
we sleep

or the echoes only
of winds and rivers,
a shared
but not immortal soul
journeying
the infinite spaces.

thought:
It a sign
that we are inhabited
by brighter things.

Read Full Post »

2016/11/p1150218.jpg

Samhain in Annwfn

Transgression by assumption.
You have taken what does not belong
By assuming everything you see here
Is yours by right.
Taking what is mine
You shall take my role and duty.
You shall by this become completely me
(And yet not), and I you.
Enter the deep and see perfection
And its flows.
Twilight woven through with gold.
A brocade worn thin and transparent,
Sky-patched, redolent.
A more perfect dream
Sunk into the depths.

As if eyes had been staring at the sun:
Now everything veined red-gold,
Too dark and too bright to see,
An inner burning light that dims the world,
Makes sense of flickers and ghosts,
And tongues of fiery liquid language
Scarce understood but lascivious.
Skin turned fallen leaf, crunched,
Made liquid, sucked up,
A new wine burning with blushed passion
Or so it may seem.

The skill here
Is not to weigh nor judge
But to lick the lightest air and breeze
And swim undisturbed, unseen
According to most fluid laws.
Dreamed but not dreaming,
A metaphor eternal, echoing.
There is, and never was, a thing made single,
Nor one made so especial
It could not be reflected endlessly
In midnight pools.

And all this
Only a beginning.
A recalibration.
A falling leaf
Slowly spinning.
A kiss.
A message.
It will be dust in the morning.
But the ache of memory:
That will be the always hidden gold.

Read Full Post »

red yellow blue6

KEY SEVEN
(Faerie Travellers)

Cap of invisibility,
Cap of indivisibility.

From whence do the elements separate?
From the instant of central balance.

From what flows the certainty of form?
From the heartbeat between what was
And what will be.

At the corner of sight:
Eyeblink or distant lightning?

What you know will blind you.
The oldest foundations are no longer in sight.
The ancestors watch this world,
All have names, sing their genealogy,
Have woven you.

Sink into the weave,
The world wears you.

Wear yourself lightly
Leaving no footprints.

Read Full Post »

magic wood

12

The Singing Wood

In the tangled thicket
Blackthorn barbs of thought
With no safe way to turn
Suspended, doubtful, tired,
A bright berry yet –
Container of seed, small hope
Only requiring its portion
Of sun and soil.

A dream of all the islands
Bridged and bounteous
Dangerous Sounds, riptides of recrimination,
Gravestones of sorrow
Mapped, but foresworn.
The few that foolish fought
Squabbling, slaying the hopes
Of all others, forgiven
But no longer exalted.
Each land with its sweet air
Breathing new life into its own
Sweet song, strong language
Not misered, but known by all
Shaped, gloried, delighted in.

The blessings of all required by all.
The gold of happenstance
A fountain of benevolence.
No capercaillie strut, no clash
Of antlered rut – lords only
Of knowledge and kind words.
All requiring all, sustaining all.
In the flash of day between
Long night and long night
The hearth of kindness
The food of companionship.

Islands no longer prisons of belief
Walled by the bones of the slain.
Each a tree: oak, ash, thorn,
Birch, mazzard, distinct, shining,
A singing wood of distinction,
Where roots sustain
Woven tight together
Where branches catch light,
A net of bright breezes dancing.
Where trunks are lithe, given space,
Grow strong,
Sheltered and warmed by all.
Islands of the blessed,
Apple islands,
Shining in sunlit seas.

woods at Tokavaig

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: