My Pagan Poems
DARK RIDER
I have seen the unseen
Riding beside us, all our days
Waiting for us, ever and now
A place of death savors of the sea
And the deep
And all roads lead to the shore
"...A MOST RARE VISION"
A raven spoke of devil delights
I was chastened by the raven's words
I, mortal, learned
The lesson of Titania's bower
THE ETERNAL FOREST
The eternal forest
Is
Beyond time
and cares
Always at the center
We
See the dark
and fear
At the periphery
Lies
The Wild Hunt
and death
Looking with quiet heart
I
See my home
and rest
THE TESTING
Bright sun falls on a midsummer night;
King sits proud as his Lady's delight.
All 'round the camp, dark shadows appear,
The woods grow still, the Testing is here.
Crack of a twig, a rustle of leaves--
The king rises, truly he believes
That he will be the first to prevail,
And raise a cup next year to the tale.
"Come forth, young intruder," he does shout--
Naught but the wind through the leaves comes out
Of the forest to answer his call
And his fears seem of nothing at all.
Boldly he steps forth, longsword in hand,
Enters the woods to make now his stand.
The King swaggers forward--"Now, young knight,
Come, face me"--stepping out of the light.
In the depths of the woods he now stands,
Facing a Test for rule of his lands
Against foe both unheard and unseen.
The King feels him there, like a blade keen.
A swipe with his longsword and a thrust--
The King presses on and knows he must.
Vines grab his feet and branches his eye
And a thorn tears the flesh of his thigh.
Drops to his knees, sword falls to his side,
Blood ebbs away, along with his pride.
Returning to the land and the green,
His life gives form now to the unseen.
Back to the light of the camp at last,
A King takes the place of monarchs past.
'Round Lord now and Lady do all sing,
"The King is dead--now long live the King".
BLUE SKIES
On mountaintop
Under dome of purest blue
Nor cloud nor bird
No imperfection in view
Is the sky a wall
"A moat defensible"
A foundation straining
Under the cosmic weight
Of entropy
Of looming chaos
Or the enmity
Of hostile forces
A barrier intangible
A bauble
A bubble
Holding our life in trust
The eye of a titan
The swirl of a breeze
The azure
As we sink to lightless depths
On mountaintop
Under dome of purest blue
I hold my breath
Thinking all of this is true
ONE WITCH
Dark her features
Light and dark her mood
Sun and moon
Contending in her smile
Secrets and abandon
Discipline
The whimsy of a child
All things in all measure
Healing touch
She would herself be healed
Forged of all graces
Possessing
All seasons in their wheel
The passion of Beltaine's fire
The still and contemplation
Of winter's frost
GRAIL
Wounded
You hold the secret of the Wasteland
You guard the mystery of renewal
Held before us
We quest eternal
If a hand should pluck each fruit
And all the grain should wither
And all the land lie under husks
And the last breath be harvest
From every person
In our souls
We know
That all shall rise
And so we persevere
FOOTPRINTS
Treading a beach of trackless sand
I labored alone over dune and vale
Lord of the sands and proud was I
An explorer of lands beyond the pale
At last I paused along my trek
And asked myself why I journeyed there
For time without end I pondered
'Til I found myself soaring in the air
On raven wings I had lifted
Now from that vista I could truly see
The dunes that I scaled were footprints
The size of every foot there before me
SAMHAIN
Black folds, eternal
Invite and terrify
Dagda's seed within
Embrace and mortify
Gravid now, The Lady
Maiden and yet The Crone
New life strains within
Vital and bound for death
Her knife ensanguined
Her blood and all the world's
A PASSING
Dancer
Laugher
Warrior
Lay down your arms
And rest
Bright blue burn the funeral fire
Doorway open
Last goodbyes
Greenwood leaf
Carry with you
One of the gifts of this world to you
Dancer
Laugher
Brother
Embers and boughs
Of green
LAMENT
Yestere'en the starlight blinked
As heaven's gaze on Earth averted
Came my sister to my chamber
And mists of lust obscured my eyes
Fair and ripe and full inviting
Clad in naught but warm desire
And the shape of Guenevere
A passion lost for years it seems
Taking her my seed takes root
And shapes what comes to fell intent
Camelot is shaken truly
By tremors breaking from her womb
Double captive now am I
Of destiny and more my lust
Blinding me to true appearance
And bending me to work her will
Son, destroyer, harbinger
Of future new and unforeseen
King and puppet guiled by beauty
An untamed force--Morgan le Fay
CIRCLE 'ROUND
The circle dark that is the Grove
Begins a journey 'round the Wheel
Set a' spinning by the rhythm
And the magic of two in love
And their fellows in the forest.
The Grove revolves and two in love
Pass Midsummer and its bounties
Thence to labor in the harvest,
'Twixt Lunassadh and the new year,
To build a hearth against the cold.
The Grove spins dark through Winter's night
And two in love approach the Spring,
Wearied with labor, with servitude,
Sensing the warmth of Brigit's dawn,
Finding release and paths to roam.
The Grove grows bright with Beltaine's fire,
A garden blooms, and two in love
Now celebrate and journey far,
In homage kneel to ancient stones,
Returning then to seek the Grove.
The Grove returns and two in love
Find comfort there, the Wheel come 'round--
The night, a hill, the forest deep
Renew their love--and, in return,
They send it 'round the Wheel again.
SONNET 1: MORRIGAN
As I lay dying in a field so strange
And as my blood commingled with the dew,
When at its bounds my spirit there did range,
Then came a cry from high atop a yew.
There perched a regal figure watching me,
A bird of ebon plumage, keen of gaze
And sharp of voice, upon that haunted tree,
Who then rose up into the morning haze.
It landed next beside my broken form;
Into its eye I gazed as life did wane
And seemed enwrapped in downy wings, so warm
Yet stern, a guide to lift me up from pain.
She carried me away into the air
To Tir na nOg, to feast in rapture there.
SKIN
Wrapped in fabric 'gainst the night,
Only a web of fibers
Stands against the storm.
Lit by candles 'gainst the dark,
Only a guttering flame
Stands against the black.
Just our skin against the end,
Only a passing heartbeat
Stands against the worm.
The strongest wall is not enough
To hold the endless hunger
Of the raven back.
The rustle of the tent,
The flicker of the flame,
The kiss of wind on skin,
Each is just the same:
Her constant invitation.
THE RIVER OF BIRTH
Draw nigh the River of Birth
Listen to her whisper
Feel the cool of her caress
Taste of her bounty
Fish and fowl do dance in her
Frolic and feed
And found new generations
Yet fear we her
Penning her with dam and dyke
And divergence
Behold her only from bank or bridge
And be chastened by her flood
The River is eternal mystery
She gives birth
To the rains
To the reeds
To the blue and caterwauling fields of ice
She gives birth
To such as we
Who gives birth to the river
Who but she herself?
She gathers herself from the skies
She prizes herself from the very rock
And we do honor the magic of well and spring
She is life itself
And when the Dagda mates
And when each year he recreates his race
The River always waits for his arrival
And his pleasure
Water from the sky
Water from the earth
Water of the sea
And water of the womb
Hail eternally the River of Birth
TO FORGE AND TO QUENCH
To forge and to quench
The coming of the Spring
With fire eternal
And wine-dark waters
Sprung from timeless depths
To shape and to edge
The knowing of all things
With songs of the trees
And poetry's truth
Which lasts beyond death
To hone and to mend
The failing of being
With draught from the well
And warmth of the flame
Nurtured without end
Thrice-blesséd are we
Who are shaped in the forge
By the Lady's hand
And are both wielded
And tended by Her
Artisan, poet, and healer
On the anvil we ring with your song
We know we are shaped for your service
By your word and your touch we are strong
SONNET 2: DEVOTION
Unto the hooded crow I am in thrall
And to her path are my desires fond.
Aloft her darkling wings do rise and fall
And through her eyes I glimpse what lies beyond.
I see beyond the hills and mists and trees
That barricade my path unto the truth,
As flying high I look at what she sees,
Revealing there a world of blooming youth
And mould'ring death, alike to be consumed--
A wanton appetite for love and death,
Which mates or feasts in visage ebon plumed,
Transforming all to one sustaining breath.
And in the world of vision she shows me
I understand I worship that I see.
IMMRAM
The sea lies to the West
And beckons to the shore.
A traveller departs,
To sea forevermore.
The California sun
Is draped in mist serene
And though our number's fewer,
The hills were ne'er so green.
Along the Western passage
Lie emerald hills and vales.
To speed the journey on,
'Tis song that fills the sails.
And all the charms behind
And friends no longer seen
Must pale to this new vista--
These hills were ne'er so green.
The wind there tastes of peat,
The rain, of poetry.
In this new home, there's music
In the dance of cloud and tree.
So wish the traveller
Safe home--and none do keen--
For next to where he sojourns,
Our hills were ne'er so green.
BELTAINE FIRE
On the swift feet
Of the servants
Of Uisneach
Flies an ember
Which is the news
Of Beltaine
To all the Land
The first blessing
Of Summer
Lies in the glow
From the bonfire
Of the Draoi
Bring forth the King
As the consort
Of Eriú
Let all rejoice
In the first light
Of the May
VOICE OF SAMILDANACH
In the voice of the hawk
I hear the war counsel
Of Samildanach
Craftsman and king
Brightest of Aes Dana
Warded in armor
Reflecting the stature
And deeds of the Tribe
In the voice of the thunder
I hear the sharp war cry
Of Lugh Lamfada
Fosterling he
Of Tailltiu
Tyranny's foe and
Bane of great Balor
Champion he of the Tribe
RAVEN'S CRY
For whom do the ravens cry?
They call to the heroic fallen.
Black wings and full-throated voice
Pay ample heed to those who fell.
While I make do with one small candle,
Beacon burning faintly in the night.
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