Tag Archive: poem


Imbolc







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Brighid has come out of the hill

Bleak are the fields
Stretching to the horizon
Barren the trees
Under a leaden sky

Burdened is my soul
With its load of empty thoughts
Beat for beat
My heart labours on

Cold wind, cold air
Chill me to the bone
Cailleach the Crone
Craddles me close

Burning in my soul
Is a glowing ember
Blinding me almost
As it bursts into flame

Bright Brighid
Bountiful maiden
Bearing so many gifts
Bringing hope and joy

Two and yet one
Old and young
Wisdom and strength
Gifts without measure




 

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

Demands…

Pulling and tugging
Pleading and begging
Asking and grasping
Wanting, demanding…

Reproachful eyes staring at me
Voices
Whispering
Laughing
Screaming

Little “i” wants to hide
Run away
Cover her ears

I stand still
And wait
In silence

Rain…

Rain

Falling softly

Carressing blossoms

Rolling along leaves

Dripping on the ground

 

Rain

Pelting down

Driven by gusts of wind

Hammering against my window

Hitting the soil

 

Rain

Streaming endlessly

Washing rocks

Gushing downhill

Filling the river

 

Rain

Clearing my mind

Freeing my heart

Opening my mind

Cleansing all

 

Riddle

Floating on a warm summer breeze
Eternally rising and falling with the wind
Adventurously plunging in the deep
Tediously balancing on a stream of hot air
Happily watching the fields from up high
Eagerly spiralling upwards
Rejoicing in the bright sunlight

I am…

I am the silver line on the horizon

I am the song of the blackbird

I am the colours of the rainbow

I am the taste of homemade bread

I am the scent of summer

I am the deep blue of the sky in May

I am the touch of your hands

I am the voice of the lark

I am the warmth of the sun’s rays

 

I am No-Thing in All

 

Self…

Hidden by a thick curtain of water

Ducking behind rocks

Peeping out carefully

Sheltering under bushes

Eyes bright between green leaves

Flitting from tree to tree

Crouching in the grass

Disappearing in a ray of sunlight

Growing in the womb of time

Unfolding senses one by one

Trying out slender limbs

Breathing slowly

Opening eyes of the heart

Stretching out hands

Gaining consciousness

I am