Category: Poetry


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Memories of the Beginning

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The old woman stares into the fire and begins to talk.

In the beginning, there were the Nine. Earth, Fire, Water, Wind and Light, Male and Female, Time and Sound, and they all came out of No-Thing.

They emerged out of the shining, whirling mass and hovered for a while. Then Water formed a ball, a huge ball, slowly turning in the void. Earth settled on Water and sighed a deep sigh of contentment. Wind laughed deeply and enveloped them in her strong arms, sometimes caressing them and sometimes ruffling up Water with mighty gusts. Time smiled and said: “It is done! I have begun.” and Sound echoed his words. All of a sudden, Fire burst out from inside of Earth and Water where she had hidden. Water turned into steam where she passed and Earth glowed red and orange in her passage. They marveled at Fire’s shining colors and fiery heat. All elements, Time and Sound complemented each other, played with each other and all was in balance.

Then Male and Female came into Being, and all of a sudden, creatures emerged in the Water, on Earth, carried by the Wind and flying into the Fire. Fish swam the oceans, in all shades of blue, but where they touched the Earth, they turned brown and green. When they jumped out of the Water and got carried for a moment on the Wind, their skin turned white and grey, and they began to breathe oxygen. This is how the mighty whales and the playful dolphins came to have lungs. Where a spark of Fire touched them, they started to glow, and when they dove back into the Water, they carried their light with them to shine in the inky depths.

Birds swarmed and flew high on the wind. (…)

To be continued

Imbolc







 Continue reading 

Easter Sunday Song

I am the song of a lark spiralling into the blue

I am the scream of a man, beaten and abused

I am the bright colous of a meadow in bloom

I am the face of a leper

I am the delicate perfume of a rose

I am the stench of meat, rotting under the sun

I am the soft touch of a gentle evening breeze

I am the sharp pain of a sandstorm on skin

I am light

I am darkness

I am warmth

I am cold

I am water

I am earth

I am fire

I am ice

I am all these and more

I am

I am alive although I am dead

Ariadne

Slowly and regularly

Round and round

Dropping to the ground

Pulling and twisting

Tugging at glistening

Fibres in a mound

 

Smell of wool

Shine of silk

Softness of cotton

Sweetness of linen

 

Glorious green

Riotous red

Blazing blue

Yummy yellow

Vibrant violet

Powerful purple

Black, brown and white

 

Slowly and regularly

Round and round

Spins the spindle

Pulling and twisting

Twisting the thread

Tugging at the heart

Of Ariadne

Imbolc

Vanilla clouds sailing across a sky

Still grey and heavy

Cotton candy clouds sailing across the puddles

Huddled between dead leaves and mud

 

A smell of sweetness in the air

Over the scent of decay

A smell of hope and promise

Over the odour of death

 

Warmth of the sun

Red and golden

Warmth of the fire

Blazing white

Warmth of newborn lambs

Black and cream

 

Here she comes

Dancing across the fields

Healing in her footprints

Inspiration in her breath

Wisdom in her words

Here she comes

Again

Autumn Leaf Thoughts

My thoughts are twirling, soaring, spinning…
Like leafs carried by the wind
They go here and there
Aimlessly
Randomly
Without Me

My thoughts are colourfull
Like leafs clinging to their branch
They change appearance
Deeply
Irreversably
Within Me

My thoughts turn golden
My thoughts turn orange
My thoughts turn brown
They move
They flutter
They fall

My thoughts are covering the ground
Like dead leaves
They decay
Slowly
Naturally
Nourishing the earth
And free Me

Walking

“You walking, your footprints are

the road, and nothing else;

there is no road, walker,

you make the road by walking.

By walking you make the road,

and when you look backward,

you see the path that you

never will step on again.

Walker, there is no road,

only wind-trails in the sea.”

~Antonio Machado