for Brigid

Bearing Water for Brigid

 

 

Sketches for a water vessel --

united, bottle and message elide on waves.

Voice of Brigid calls.

All who hear: Imagine.

Exposed to wind, to grit, to rain,

shifts of vibration,

rock faces erode.

 

Vessel

Designated fixed space

Seaworthy container

Conveyor through fluid

separates

fluidity

Creates place, surface to paint

tableaux for amusement,

diffusion of emotion,

beatitude against foment of dueling farce.

 

Harsh edges polished,

pure shades

blend in the dark.

Brief infusion

of giddy illusion

glows

just enough to guilefully entice.

Sparkling Neural net

smiles,

a secret

clue revealing

purpose, meaning;

engages

wild eternal child,

ages' flamboyant fool,

Glorious

Muse

 

(Voice pours from within)

 

A wound is a sacred vessel.

Pain carves into flesh

sense memory;

carries the seed

of its own demise.

Sentience

engulfed in life

learns anew to be whole.

 

Wounded with the potential for wisdom

when eyes are are pried

from seeping, sucking, suffering

aching to censure what future we admire.

Redefine the schizm.

This wound is our project.

To heal, discover the vision;

realign the seam to fit

self-framed landscape.

 

Let loose that genie of desire.

Ride rushing blood streams.

Build a roaring pyre of grief,

insane belief in wrath-filled deities.

Revile that old refrain: "life is pain" or a game

to be lost.

No Faustian bargain.

Just a 

rambling adventure

daring

to explore

essence of ecstasy.

Don't wait for the rest to see

and demur.

Stretch your sail.

Take sight of your guiding star.

The only failure is self-denial

in favor of the vile lie

that pain is destiny

instead of faithful friend

lending energy

for change.

 

Slice vivid memories.

Exult in the tastes, the textures.

Enliven your way.

 

In the end

the vessel breaks.

There the Goddess stirs.

 

 

 

Scrying on the Moon

 

 

~twilight of the goddess, call to song aery dancing, lady fair your fiery trance rewinds our souls; enjoy these offerings of fancy: all art is yours ~

 

By sibylline light

images I recognize,

creviced captures of my life.

I know her judgment to be my own.

 

"Nourished by Moon rivers

mythical cavern blooms

unseen by sunlight

glow green." 

Thus she sets the scene;

becomes the prophecy.

 

"Purest white simplicity

curved to suggest fragility

faith fed maiden ready for

plucking,

given in bondage to womanly woes,

hard rows to hoe

for tight human hug through 

crying of night.

 

Fate of mortal soldiers, sacrificed to lust.

Seeking relief, beg for the boon of drama

high adventure

sneaking into sad hotels

for a fix or a tumble.

Laughs,

deadly play,

danger, a real chance.

 

Barefoot in the snow

icy roads

winds so strong

I could not make you hear.

I thought you were my destiny.

Crazy thoughts, far from clear;

but I believed

song lyrics from Saturnine deities

would not lie, leave me

dying, fading into winter's grey

drifting clouds,

endless sorrow endured for naught.

Lost on this careless corner,

dreaming of oblivion, intent on visions

like rain

tapping against eternity's

vast windowpane.

Scenic serenity.

Nature's gradations of green

soothe tired eyes,

trembling nerves, throbbing  veins.

Slivers of moonlight reflect,

disperse through refrains, unearth secrets

embedded in song

effervescing through cool pure air

 

cleansing the uprising nestling

set aflame

resurrected

tempered mettle,

pure, wise, tested

engorged with the will

to rise"

 

 

 

Goddess’s Way

 

 

With passion!

Outpouring elixir fills our mythic spring.

Sparkling flame of peace abides within,

licks battle wounds.

Not ignorant fools;

no pleas for altruist beliefs.

Relief of hunger completes us.

No cunning deceivers could ignite malice,

steal our good.

Unbalanced need reaches to heal through

magical interchange.

Energies when well-purposed, understood,

replenish, undiminished.

Why meanly measure 

scores in morality play at “who deserves”?

Healthful work, flowing contribution, 

bestows focal point for cyclic rain’s reward.

Fortune’s gift, this benevolent wishers’ well,

replete Goddess blessing.

Sacred vessels,

dip in for contentment, good will, joyful

self-regard.

This is not belief or even knowing.

This is breath of awe in motion.

 

 

 

Bride’s

 

 

Novitiate strong and true, my Lord.

Trained to service as is due, my Lord.

Sweep snowy threshold; chop roots for stew,

my Lord.

Domicile clean, tidy, warm.

Hearth fire charmed; wicks ready to light at dark’s release.

Kitchen enchantment, smells that spell succulent sup.

Holiday breads, hunt’s victory,

fruit sweet and spiced, preserved against winter’s insurgency.

Stalwart, luscious vintage ever replenished to

toast-raising cups.

Fragrant pipe passed ‘round; copious wine.

Feast sumptuously satisfied.   Night of dance

with hallowed candles cast in magic.

Rhythms wax and wander, discover heroic tales, grand to recount.

Bawdy poetry regales, playful competition gains momentum.

Energy escalates, fans profound merriment.

Family, beyond embarrassment, drunk on high spirits and love.

Goddess blesses, gently kisses, wafts through

artful celebration.