Precious

'The Wheel of Fortune' Tarot card from (L-R) 

The Gaian Tarot by Joanna Powell Colbert,

The Witches' Wisdom Tarot by Phyllis Curott and Danielle Barlow,

The Mood Tarot by Natalie Meraki

 

Yesterday, 

I watched the livestream of my beloved friend's funeral

While a dear one held me as I cried

Then fed me,

And we talked and mourned and laughed together.

Sometimes,

I wonder about this Wheel of Fortune we're all on.

Where is the up?

And when is the down?

Or is it all 

Just up and down,

All at once

And all the time?

Perhaps,

There is no Wheel of Fortune,

No up then down.

There is just life:

Grief and love and laughter and tears

All at once

And all of the time.

Which is why - while it lasts -

It is all so damned precious.

Winter Blessings and Beauties, Day 73: Feeding Your Soul in January

It seems a bit of a cheat, but I have postponed the post I had planned for today after stumbling across this lovely article, filled with inspiring suggestions for literary treats (including films, stories, poems, talks, podcasts and music) to enjoy during this month. I hope you'll forgive me - in fact once you've dipped into the treasures on offer I'm sure you will!

Winter Blessings and Beauties: Day 73

Feeding Your Soul in January

Check out the link above. Enjoy. You're welcome. 

Winter Blessings and Beauties, Day 42: Winter Promises

 

Winter Promises

Tomatoes rosy as perfect baby's buttocks,
eggplants glossy as waxed fenders,
purple neon flawless glistening
peppers, pole beans fecund and fast
growing as Jack's Viagra-sped stalk,
big as truck tire zinnias that mildew
will never wilt, roses weighing down
a bush never touched by black spot,
brave little fruit trees shouldering up
their spotless ornaments of glass fruit:

I lie on the couch under a blanket
of seed catalogs ordering far
too much. Sleet slides down
the windows, a wind edged
with ice knifes through every crack.
Lie to me, sweet garden-mongers:
I want to believe every promise,
to trust in five pound tomatoes
and dahlias brighter than the sun
that was eaten by frost last week.

~ Marge Piercy

Winter Blessings and Beauties: Day 42

Winter Promises

What do you dream of in Winter? What seeds are you planting - literally or metaphorically? What are you planning or anticipating? What are you looking forward to? 

Take the time offered by the in-between days of Winter to sink into your imagination - dream your dreams and nurture your wishes. Plan ahead with optimism and delight. Visualise in detail what you will cultivate next year. Then... take the first solid steps on the path to achieving your goal. Good luck!

 

Winter Blessings and Beauties, Day 12: The Magic of Darkness

While writing this series of posts I find myself returning again and again to the question of just why we are so down on winter? I do think it has something to do with the dominance of dark over light during this part of the yearly cycle. I suppose it's sensible for a species with poor night vision to be wary of the dark - which could be concealing all kinds of hidden dangers. But the dark doesn't contain only danger - it contains enchantment and beauty too. I love this poem which celebrates the power and magic of darkness:

Alchemy

We are in a state of continual transformation: fresh atoms are continually being reincorporated in us, while others that we received beforehand escape from us.

('De l'Infinito', Giordano Bruno)

Wonderful, what will come out of darkness:

stars, owl voices, sleep;

water, green shoots, bird's eggs

with their own curved darkness;

gemstones; a whole and perfect child

from my unseen recesses; delight

from behind shut lids, finding each other,

fingers and tongues made delicate by night.

Great magic's performed after sunset.

Old alchemists conjuring angels,

witches dancing spirals under the moon;

drum-shamans, their spirit journeys;

three nights in a tomb

Staging a resurrection. Transformations

taking place out of ordinary sight.

Daylight gives us boundaries, fixes

everything. The world separates

into colours and chemicals, figures

and faces. Surfaces appear solid

reliable, unconfused. We can see

to operate complex machinery.

Only darkness permits mixing

of elements, stirring of essences

in secret, combing dark and bright

into new patterns while we sleep; so dawn

finds us transformed, shifted.

Star-particles link us with trees

dolphins and stones, travel through us

creating the universe. Base matter

becomes gold: in the Cauldron

of Annwyn, in the crucible of mind

we're all magicians. The Hidden Stone,

Elixir of Life, eludes us; we've lost

the art of working through touch

with invisible forces: but as darkness

rises, and we grope wildly, perhaps

out of chaos the magic will come right.

- Hilary Llewellyn Williams

Winter Blessings and Beauties: Day 12

The Magic of Darkness

What magic do you find in darkness? When you can't see clearly, what beauties are revealed to your other senses? What possibilities and transformations arise? Consider how darkness complements light, the balance and interplay between the two, how shadows add depth and contrast. Try writing your own poem praising the dark.

    

 

In The Woods

Don't try to make the magic happen.
Open to it, and then
Wait.
Open
Breathe
Remember.
Soften your gaze.
Let your shoulders drop.
Inhale, then exhale.
Wait
Wait
Wait.
Feel the touch of grace in the breeze on your skin.
When it falls upon you gently, softly,
Let its beauty fill your heart.
Its power is immense, infinite,
It is always here for you to find.
Just open to it and wait.
It will come to you.
Open.
Breathe.
Remember.

Brigid Poetry Festival 2012

Remember the annual online Poetry for Brigid Festival (you can find my last year's offering here, and dig further back in the archives for earlier contributions)?  Well, it's already that time of year again! Here is my offering:




Kingdom of Mist



I ride through a kingdom of mist

where farms drown in a phantom sea

and may piles up in the hedges like snow

waiting to melt in tomorrow's sun.



Young wheat lies down where May-winds blew,

and larks are earthbound by the stars.

A heron glides between the trees

that hold the river to its course.



Here pebbles slowly turn to snails

and spiders webs are spun with glass.

Small shells fly off as frightened moths

and cows become as druid stones.



Only the mist moves as a ghost

loving the land with limbs of fur

and whispered words grow grey as breath

rising into the frosted air.



And night comes down where day once grew,

lights ripple through this thin white sea,

while in the village, children sleep

never to know they slept in sky.


- Edward Storey

Brigid Poetry Festival 2011

Here is my offering for this year's Poetry Festival in honour of Brigid.

To all that is brief and fragile

superficial, unstable,

To all that

lacks foundation

argument or principles;

To all that is light,

fleeting, changing, finite

To smoke spirals,

wand roses,

To sea foam

and mists of oblivion...

To all that is light in weight

for itinerants

on this transient earth

Somber, raving,

with transitory words

and vaporous bubbly wines

I toast

in breakable glasses.

~Maria Eugenia Baz Ferreira



Reminder: 6th Annual Brigid Poetry Festival

Feel free to copy the following to your blog/facebook/website and spread the word. Let poetry bless the blogosphere once again!


WHAT: A Bloggers (Silent) Poetry Reading

WHEN: Anytime between  now and Brigid's Feast Day, February 1, 2011

WHERE: Your blog

WHY: To celebrate the Feast of Brigid

HOW: Select a poem you like - by a favorite poet or one of your own - to post February 1st.

RSVP: If you plan to publish, there is now a Facebook Community page for the event. If you  post a poem on your blog, please share the link on the community page so we can all go there and read it. If you don’t have a blog or website of your own, go ahead and post your poem in its entirety to the community page.

Feel free to spread this invitation across the blogosphere!

Thanks to Reya, Deborah and Anne for their vision and hard work in initiating and maintaining this tradition.

5th Annual Poetry for Brigid Event

Feel free to copy the following to your blog/facebook/website and spread the word. Let poetry bless the blogosphere once again!

• WHAT: A Bloggers (Silent) Poetry Reading



• WHEN: Anytime February 2, 2010



• WHERE: Your blog



• WHY: To celebrate the Feast of Brigid, aka Groundhog Day



• HOW: Select a poem you like - by a favorite poet or one of your own - to post February 2nd.



• RSVP: If you plan to publish, feel free to leave a comment and link on this post. Please pass this invitation on.

I have participated in this event for the last couple of years. This year I'm posting early again as I have a busy week ahead. The poem I have selected I found in an anthology called 'Sweet Singers, An Anthology of Carmarthenshire Poems'. I love that it originated in my neck of the woods! I also like the subject matter (the magic that can arise from darkness), as it feels right for me personally at this time in my life, and also at a time of year (Imbolc) when we celebrate the returning light and the end of the dark days of winter.

Alchemy

We are in a state of continual transformation: fresh atoms are continually being reincorporated in us, while others that we received beforehand escape from us.

('De l'Infinito', Giordano Bruno)

Wonderful, what will come out of darkness:

stars, owl voices, sleep;

water, green shoots, bird's eggs

with their own curved darkness;

gemstones; a whole and perfect child

from my unseen recesses; delight

from behind shut lids, finding each other,

fingers and tongues made delicate by night.

Great magic's performed after sunset.

Old alchemists conjuring angels,

witches dancing spirals under the moon;

drum-shamans, their spirit journeys;

three nights in a tomb

Staging a resurrection. Transformations

taking place out of ordinary sight.

Daylight gives us boundaries, fixes

everything. The world separates

into colours and chemicals, figures

and faces. Surfaces appear solid

reliable, unconfused. We can see

to operate complex machinery.

Only darkness permits mixing

of elements, stirring of essences

in secret, combing dark and bright

into new patterns while we sleep; so dawn

finds us transformed, shifted.

Star-particles link us with trees

dolphins and stones, travel through us

creating the universe. Base matter

becomes gold: in the Cauldron

of Annwyn, in the crucible of mind

we're all magicians. The Hidden Stone,

Elixir of Life, eludes us; we've lost

the art of working through touch

with invisible forces: but as darkness

rises, and we grope wildly, perhaps

out of chaos the magic will come right.

- Hilary Llewellyn Williams

True

I used to know who I was.


I was the girl who was going to be a writer.
The curious girl, who sang to the moon,
Believed that love conquered all,
And laughed out loud with her heart on her sleeve.


I forgot who I was.

Somewhere I lost my bearings,
Confused by the girl I saw reflected in your eyes.
I thought she was me.
She was not.


And now, the reflection shattered,
Illusion fades.
The ground shifts beneath my feet - who am I?


I know who I am.


I am the woman who writes.
The curious woman, who sings to the moon,
Believes that love conquers all,
And laughs out loud with her heart on her sleeve.

(Belated) Poetry for Imbolc

The Thread

Through birth and death and rebirth,

The thread continues spinning.

And though all beginnings have to end - 

All ends are but beginnings. 

- Susan Farley

Invitation to The Fourth Annual Brigid in the Blogosphere Poetry Slam

Feel free to copy the following to your blog and spread the word. Let poetry bless the blogosphere once again!

WHAT: A Bloggers (Silent) Poetry Reading

WHEN: Anytime February 2, 2009

WHERE: Your blog

WHY: To celebrate the Feast of Brigid, aka Groundhog Day

HOW: Select a poem you like - by a favorite poet or one of your own - to post February 2nd.

RSVP: If you plan to publish, feel free to leave a comment and link on this post, where the Slam originated. Or link to whoever you hear about this from and a mighty web of poetry will be spun.

Feel free to pass this invitation on to any and all bloggers. Thanks to Reya, who began what is now an annual event, and Deborah Oak for continuing it.

Litany of the Spring Flowers

It goes like this:



First, snowdrops stand alone against the winter.


Then pussywillows, primroses, daffodils by the roadside.



Next, lesser celandine, delicate windflowers, sweet purple violets.



(A gradual greening of the hedges and trees)



Blackthorn blossoms. A sudden abundance of dandelions.



Cowslips, lady's smock, daisies, forget-me-nots.



Stitchwort stars the bank, speedwells sprawl in grass, ferns unfurl tender fronds.



Bluebells, Queen Anne's lace, red campion, buttercups, jack-by-the-hedge, ramsons.



A froth of sweet-sickly hawthorn flowers.



Red clover, Welsh poppies, ox eye daises, early purple orchids, greater celandine, columbine, wild strawberries.



The momentum increases and as summer erupts I am overwhelmed in a profusion of foxgloves thistles woodruff meadowsweet birds' foot trefoil tufted vetch corn poppies knapweed rosebay willowherb purple loosestrife wild roses honeysuckle brambles mullein figwort...



...and I find myself out under the sun walking barefoot on soft grass listening to birdsong and smiling at the foolishness of lists.

Beltane 2008

Last year I celebrated Beltane in Portsmouth at the British Reclaiming Spring Gathering.

This year I helped create a ritual for members of my local Pagan Moot, although the invitation was also sent out on the Carmarthenshire Pagans yahoo list so that any Pagans in the Carmarthenshire area who wanted to come along could. It was held on a warm, sunny Saturday afternoon in a room on the top floor of an old pub in Carmarthen that has recently been converted by friends of mine into a really wonderful magic shop.

Here's what I wrote in my journal afterwards:

Beltane 2008

The creak and dark of a town-centre upstairs room, warm early summer light and life filtering in through shaded windows.

Altars to the five elements: silky fabric, candles, shells, stones, feathers, flowers, incense, crystals...

Stockinged feet on worn oak floorboards.

Collaborative circle casting, element calling.

Quiet visualisation, smiles.

Singing softly, weaving bracelets.

Sharing visions...

'May you never hunger, may you never thirst'.

Soft laughter together, new friendships blossom.

Reluctance to part, this quiet friendly time and space apart from the hustling bustling world is sacred, precious.

Helping hands pack away, graciously help to carry.

Hugs, kisses, thanks, see you soon!

Parting.

Going home.

Tired, happy.

I hope you all had a good Beltane too!

Brigid in Cyberspace Poetry Reading: 'Day Dream' by ASJ Tessimond

I'm posting a day early as I will be out all day tomorrow at an Imbolc event celebrating Brigid. Happy Imbolc/Brigid/Candlemas/Groundhog Day everyone!



Day Dream

One day people will touch and talk perhaps
easily,
And loving be natural as breathing and warm as
sunlight,
And people will untie themselves, as string is unknotted,
Unfold and yawn and stretch and spread their fingers,
Unfurl, uncurl like seaweed returned to the sea,
And work will be simple and swift
as a seagull flying,
And play will be casual and quiet
as a seagull settling,
And the clocks will stop, and no one will wonder
or care or notice,
And people will smile without reason,
Even in winter, even in the rain.



ASJ Tessimond

You Are Invited to the Third Annual Brigid in Cyberspace Poetry Reading

My dear friend Deborah Oak has once again put out an invitation to this annual event on her blog (which, by the way, I highly recommend).

Feel free to copy the following to your blog and spread the word. Let poetry bless the blogosphere once again!

WHAT: A Bloggers (Silent) Poetry Reading

WHEN: Anytime February 2, 2008

WHERE: Your blog

WHY: To celebrate the Feast of Brigid, aka Groundhog Day

HOW: Select a poem you like - by a favorite poet or one of your own - to post February 2nd.

RSVP: If you plan to publish, feel free to leave a comment and link on this post on Deborah's blog.

Deborah Oak says: "Last year when the call went out there was more poetry in cyberspace than I could keep track of. So, link to whoever you hear about this from and a mighty web of poetry will be spun. Feel free to pass this invitation on to any and all bloggers. Thank you, Reya, for beginning what is now an annual event."

Twilight in March

Still in the air
Stars in the branches
Birds sing the day
Down into night

Ice in the wind
Buds in the hedgerow
Spring dances on
As winter bows out


Paganism, permaculture, poultrykeeping and now poetry! What an alarmingly alliterative blog. Perhaps I can procure a portrait to put with the pictures...