I sing to you, O Bridghid, queen of sacred poets,
Burning flame in the night. Your light points the way out of the mental fog And towards a higher purpose. Every speck of paint, every smudge of charcoal, Every song written and sung, every word written and shared, Is within your power. I dedicate them to you. Let my words bring beauty, Let them move the people to the saddest sweetest tears And to the highest cries of ecstasy. I dedicate my voice to you, Lady of bards, poets, and madmen. May I serve you with honor. May my songs make you proud. May my life make you smile. Hail, Lady Bridghid, I honor you. Accept my sacrifice. written on Mohegan Island, Maine, 2000
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Another drowning man
finds his way upon my shore. Another wounded soul kicked in the teeth by the gods, bad luck and some Siren… I taste the bile of knowing my recurring role in the story, the suspicious beginning, the sweet middle, and oh yes, the bitter end… I am not doing this again. My compassion has run out. My heart is a seeping patchwork, the work of previous Odysseuses. This Calypso quits. And Zeus can kiss my ass… Written August 2003 Weary of the screams that filled her ears,
Tired of cleaning the blood from her fingernails, Her acorns turning to ash in her pointed beak, Macha turns away from the battle And her sisters In search for the normal life of home and family. Loving his children was easy. Tending the farm a joy. Laying with him in the night, She almost felt safe. Macha dreams of roiling clouds And jeering crowds To be betrayed by carelessness. It’s just a legend but it is her history, And she curses her part. written November 30, 2003 Death is a healing
torn and tired spirit stretched impossibly over worn, fragile flesh tears shed and wounds scarcely healed white scars; red eyes smells that live forever scents no one else notices pungent in the pinched room electronic bleeps keep time with the labored heart a torturous tarantella a ghost fist loosens its grip death is a healing not a failure Written 2005 The river for herself
The river as herself without human reference without outward justification her purpose known to herself her path known to many The river is a boundary impossible to cross without sacrifice. The river is a fount of bounty for those who ask. The river is a road to the underworld. The river is a goddess of birth and death. The river is a god of longing and searching. The river is a shape-shifter of water and earth. The water of the river purifies us. The water of the river washes away our tears. The water of the river carries us under. The water of the river redeems us. The water of the river takes in our despair and turns it into abundance. Written March 2005 m Shri Hanumate Namah
Greetings to you, Lord Hanuman! You are the Remover of Distress. You are the Lord of the Senses. You are an ardent listener, always so keen to listen. You are a Great Warrior, capable of supporting all. You are the sentry at the door of the Divine Abode. Swift as thought and powerful as the wind are you, great Hanuman! Your heart is filled with love and devotion for the Divine. You are the repository of learning, virtuous and fully accomplished, always keen to be of service to the Divine. You have been embraced by the Divine and have felt its heart full of joy. The burden of all difficult tasks of the world become light with your kind grace. I honor you, Hanuman, and seek your blessings. Embrace me as you have been embraced. Bless me as you have been blessed. Fill my heart with love. Fill my mind with intelligence. Fill my soul with purpose. I enshrine you within my heart and soul. Om Shri Hanumate Namah Written July 2005 I belong here and nowhere and everywhere
I am the sea that rises up and takes back Sides are being taken and lines are being drawn I wash over opposing armies indiscrimately I am the sea that rises up and takes back Hate and love, right and wrong, life and death These mean nothing to me I am the sea that rises up and takes back I am that I am Written July 2005 Swirling and spattered snow and smoke
Calls forth the dragon, ferocious and fierce Climb on, child, if you dare Hold on for dear life Ride the dragon, ride Wherever she takes you, you will see beyond knowledge Push, push through the veil that clouds your eyes Written May 2006 In the darkness of dawn, you will awaken from vivid dreams
In the darkness of dawn, you will look out and wonder In the darkness of dawn, you will stare out the window into the woods You have heard the call In the morning after the sun rises, you will put shoes on your restless feet In the morning after the sun rises, you will look for the map In the morning after the sun rises, you will close the door behind you You have heard the call In the afternoon with the sun overhead, you will ask yourself “why” In the afternoon with the sun overhead, you will wipe your brow and sigh In the afternoon with the sun overhead, you continue around the bend You have heard the call In the evening twilight, you will rest in the shade of the large oak tree In the evening twilight, you will cool your blistered feet in the river In the evening twilight, you will eat a crust of bread and a juicy fruit You have heard the call In the black of night, you will wonder if you did the right thing and went the right way In the black of night, you will hold yourself and pray to your gods In the black of night, you will sing the song of your soul to the stars You have heard the call In the morning when the birds sing, you will put your shoes back on In the morning when the birds sing, you will walk stiffly forward In the morning when the birds sing, you will remember why and smile You have heard the call Written July 2006 WaterMaker,
Out of your womb, Flow the waters of life; Out of your eyes, Flow the waters of our souls; Out of your heart, Flow the waters of love. WaterMaker, Rejuvenate us; Cleanse us; Love us. Teach us how to pour Forth your compassion To each other and our ailing world. I will catch your love and healing in my arms, in my heart. And I will share it with the dry, parched world. I am RainCatcher. Written February 2007 |