Image by Pixabay.com
Stepping into the clearing
I could see a small cottage
Abandoned air assailed my senses
The stillness echoed with past activity
To the left stood a stone circle
A lantern glowing in the centre
There were no footsteps in the dry earth
The surrounding tress too still
The back of my neck tingled a warning
Dare I go closer, enter the circle?
My enquiring mind pushed me on
Kneeling by the lantern there lay a note
It read, the light will lead you back…
The Chalice Well, Glastonbury
Does Merlin wait close by the great tower of Avalon
Where Arthur sleeps waiting to be called
To save us all from holy hell.
Healing waters close by, where many go in search of blessings
Does the holy cup lie beneath the Chalice Well?
Will the truth of these long-loved stories ever be known?
Fantasy, legend, who can tell?
Stand on the broken castle wall of Tintagel
Feel the old man of the woods, his power dancing in the breeze.
A touch from centuries gone.
You may walk home feeling two or three inches taller.
That’s the magic of a long-loved story
Medicine for the soul…
We
Are the
Forgotten
Searching for land
Held by cold water
The pale sun no comfort
Banished by Odin’s gold eye
He left us thought, memory, song
Wednesday turns to black ravens’ wings
Thursday the hammer will fall, land we call…
Image by Pixabay.com
In my imagination
Like Ali, I am the greatest
I fly with eagles
Sale the river on the back of a black swan
Cross the Amazon in a single bound
Build the pyramids single handed
Rediscover the lost library of Alexander
I know all the secrets in the Vatican
I read the minds of our great inventors
This one was heavy going
They do not think the way we do
Discovering new worlds for humanity to live on
Hoping this time not to mess it up
I have had ten minutes all to myself
Back to work now
Tea to cook, family home
Washing to be done
Homework to be taken care of
I wonder what I will get up to tomorrow…
Image by scvincent.com
I fly over land and sea
Finding all I am meant to see
Astral body glowing bright
Alongside birds who fly at night
I see tall dark trees in winters light
Reaching for each other to say goodnight
Spring returns with summers oncoming light
New warmth returning bright green leaves
We sleep now beneath soft grey clouds
Curtains drawn against the dying of the light
A strip of blue as a reminder of days return
With a slow spinning world
We root our lives upon…
Image by Pixabay.com
I heard a shadow scream
With bodily form within
My heart wrenched with need to help
The cry held the tears of the world
Weighing heavily on my mind
Stepping into the darkness
I heard the whispered words
She took my life, I was flushed away
I cannot move back nor forward
My spirit lies in limbo.
I knew this spirit, my mind
rushed back to my 11-year-old self
On instructions, it was my hand
that flushed this small body away
my life went on. It’s now in later years
I hear the echo of those days…
Image by Pixabay.com
I search distant lands for beauty
Sacred sites fill my eyes
Yet none remain in beauty
My feet cannot find
The image held in mind
I have no words to tell
From whence it comes
To haunt me
My heart so filled with longing
For beauty’s eyes to see me
When darkness comes
Her light surrounds me
I sleep in the arms of beauty
Morning light steals her from me
With hollow heart I continue
Must I die in search of beauty?
Image by Pixabay.com
We seemed to be the only people
Sitting in this sun filled cathedral of tall trees
The rock warm beneath me
The space whispered of ancient times
Secrets I wish I could hear
I wondered if the stone I held would speak to me
I heard a loud splash, as if a stone
had been thrown into the river
Looking carefully, I could see no one
I took this as my answer
The stone was mine
I held it in my hand like a sacred treasure, a gift
I wonder what secrets
it might whisper to my waiting mind
I might have to wait a while
As I am not good at meditating
If anything comes, I will let you know…
Image by Jaye Marie
Image by Jaye Marie
On my weekend trip to Cornwall
Walking through the woods
On a carpet of mica
As if walking on fallen stars
Looking for stones beside the River Fowey
I found a strange blue stone
With thin gold stripes
Perfectly square, two inches by two
We sat awhile with the sun bleaching
Through the trees, asking the spirits
Of this sacred space if I could
Take the stone home with me
I waited for a sound where none should be
For my answer…
Continued on Sunday
