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Posts Tagged ‘the numinous’

magenta blue orange1

KEY TEN
(Glen Mor and the Ard Ri n’a Sidhe, Mull)

“We shall give to you here
The skill of the Song of the Land.

Words of silver,
Words of gold.

Sweet gale and honey
On the tongue tip.

The melancholy of the curlew
And the lapwing.

The smooth stream of the blackbird;
The harsh heart of the eagle.

For you are only human –

Life as sweet as the scent of violets
And then gone.”

—-

Here, then, is the last of the Ten Keys to the Green Kingdoms and the words that discover their essence. Collecting environmental and subtle energy essences can be an uncertain thing. One can doubt the veracity of what is perceived, of what images and thoughts pass in front of consciousness. We knew the island of Mull still retained a sentient link to the Fairy Kingdoms, once felt throughout Britain, now rarely encountered or paid attention to. These words formed and seemed to me to emanate from high in the hierarchy of the Secret Commonwealth, the Otherworld realms. Delusion is easy for humans, however. I wished that I could be shown some veracity of the intent and content of the words. Immediately thereafter, as I was gazing out from the coach window, a grey heron flew close alongside us, keeping pace with the vehicle. Those who know, know the heron as a significant messenger of the Hidden Kingdoms. These things happen, likely or not. The Green Kingdoms underlie all levels of landscape, history, myth, psyche. They are the dreaming of the world. Those who might have been touched somehow by one or more Key may like to look at using the essence as a spiritual nutrient. Please go to http://greenmanshop.co.uk

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magenta orange turquoise

KEY EIGHT
(Iona)

The heart beats
Then it stops
Then it starts again.

How strange!
The eye that is
The organ of understanding
Is the well
From which fall tears.

Storm clouds rush in,
Salt on the air.
Amongst the leaves
A thrush singing:
Listen, listen, listen to me.
Beauty, beauty, beauty.

No heart can overtake
The long passages of time.
Beauty dissolves.
Kings, saints, seasons, tides
All vanish, vanish
Into the hollow hills.

The hollow hills
Will vanish into the sea
And sunset.

The eye
Forever bathed in tears,
The heart that starts
And stops –
The thrushes song.

The clouds
Pass over:
Sunlight
On the mounds of the dead,
Dancing with the eternal dancers.

—

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slate blue red3

KEY SIX
(Sheaval, Barra)

To bring us home safe
She waits upon the hillside.
To bring us home safe –
Old roads straight worn
From loch to lochan.

The cry of seagulls
From the land
Lost in mists.

Bell.
Chalice.
Cloud.
Watcher.

—

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violet turquoise indigo gold1

KEY FIVE
(Beinn Sguraval, Barra)

Mountain wearing a cloak of flowers.
Grey door.
See in new ways:
Relax, allow your sight.
Where your attention flows,
There is a doorway.
Veils of rain
Thousand primroses
Wonderful!
Melt meanings,
Dissolve barriers.
Music is the ordering of silence.
See with your heart.
Nothing is hidden but in clear view.
You yourself are the key.

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gold turquoise blue2

KEY THREE

(St. Brendan’s Chapel, Barra)

Nowhere nearer
The Isles of the Blest,
The dead gather together,
Warrior and child.

Coaxed by a hand of hills
The land launched
Into silver sunset ocean.

Go on, you can do it.
It will be alright,
Wonders await you…
The voyage into mystery
Stepping stones to heaven.

Eternal islands,
Eternal seas.

—

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turquoise blues green1

KEY ONE
(forest of Caledon)

Green bed
Lie here safe.
Green heart
Rest here whole.
Green jewel
Rest here in light.
Over all and
Over Earth:
Completion.
Sufficient.
Wrapped in clouds
Held, not forgotten.
Endless is the mystery
Of life
Finding itself.
Sun and stars, even,
watch amazed.
Green heart of
All things.

the first of ten pieces attempting to encapsulate numinous landscapes of Scotland and the Western Isles. Landscapes that exist in memory, mind, folklore, as well as geographically. Access points to the Celtic (and pre-Celtic) Otherworlds. As a means to soul healing and the yearn of a return to an unreachable home

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P1090084
3 The Undefined

between definitions
death turns us all
time-travellers,
hunting echoes
in edgeless canyons.

becoming poets
searching flavour:
the right words
for a gesture, a phrase,
a filling of empty spaces.

actions dissipate,
colours fail in their purpose.
the emptiness of hollowness
(a mimic, a clue, a joke,
of real emptiness
from which we come and go,
come and go).

a dream of reaching:
unable to find
our
own hands.

—

P1090073

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