Monthly Archives: September 2015

Autumn Arrived

Here, where I live, summer turned to fall overnight. I was awake unable to sleep when it happened: a definite moment, an unargued exchange of places, as seasons seemed to acknowledge each other, passing along the ever-watchful trail of time.

The first noticeable change was the air. I felt the settling in cozy shelter of a darker sort of darkness than the summer has, even in a mild season climate like this one. As a child I always referred to it as “fallfire and rain.” I knew it was autumn when the air began to take on a crisp, sharp scent of burning wood, regardless of whether there was a flame. The fire was in the reds of the crackling leaves, which kept their hint of scented green just below the brown smell of dust and dirt.

Growing up, I would wake on some day each year to find my room smelled of fallfire and rain. And so it was last night. The density of air around me shifted, and the smell filled my room suddenly and subtly. It carried with it a spacious, penumbral promise of possibility. Its mysterious potential, harbinger of shadows and the hidden light within them, covered me in soft safety.

For a moment, I wondered whether now I knew what the clay earth must feel, as it tucks itself in with a blanket of leaves. In sleeplessness, I began to imagine the rain that I hoped would follow, the drum of droplets on building and tree, dripping into many grateful leafy hands, oval palmed, stretched out for more, trickling near street curbs, dancing across the dried, dehydrated land.

I felt this morning how the new season already held its own; and sure enough, there was the rain, sprinkling cautiously at first, then coming down with greater commitment and resolve. It just needed to gather momentum and support from the clouds, which it had, at least for some hours.

The balance of light and dark has tipped again, sifting softly away from the vibrancy of the sun to a more quiet, subdued, peaceful muted light given off by changes and their reflection of a deep abiding silence just below the surface of daily activity. The spontaneous shouts of summer echo in the welcoming emptiness, already enfolding us in a vast expectant stillness, and the earth’s eyes turn inward, just waiting for the landscape and the hearts of the living to hush, enough that we might hear in the distance the dreams of the winter to come.

The Apology

While what’s broken mends
We gather one another’s tears
Frightened by these raw words
Shared in earnest honesty

For our trembling hands
Suddenly afraid to touch
For the truths, unearthed
We longed to rebury in sand

For fragile trust
We thread between to weave again
I will share with you what no one else has known
What hidden shadows still inform who I am

Reach out, light one, I have much to own
Though you found the strength to take a stand
A midst the rubble of our yesterdays
What I wish to take back, were it that I can

Why do you still blame yourself
When there is nothing else you could have done
How could you not be carried away
By wild waves, compelling you too far from land

I led the way, in the space that was ours
And almost lost you; of course you ran
Let the sea of forgiveness enfold our hearts
You were caught in fierce tides you did not understand

Night of Changes

I dream the stars
Their distant lights gleaming
To guide me home

In the breadth of a night-span
Walk a wide-wheeling world
In wonder

While in timeless torrents
Currents of tides
Dance with wild freedom

Far unseen
Mine, the wild
I will not wander there alone

Before the breaking dawn
Shattered moon dust sinks beneath
The clouds

Of a turning earth
Ah, the rising sun
Begun again the day

Tomorrow’s reign
And will it rain
Sorrow, or joy

The pebbles that once enjoyed
Their places in ancient monuments
Ask these questions too

Of eons and their entropy
The fractal fragile dew
Tumbling through the morning sky

Glistening like spilled memory
Wash the landscape clean
It shines anew

The mists of unknown parting
Uncertainty dark and light
Not yet torn in two

I will spend
Delicious moments
Savoring silence

In the gaps between possibilities
Rest knowing solace
In the shelter of you

Bright one, so you call me
Tonight just silver moon
Shining dimly from half-closed eyes

I dream, I dream, as all we do
The bold go forth
Not half as wise

Be still, let go
And be at peace
Child, you say, I carry you

Equinox at Loughcrew

A beautiful heartfelt post by Ali Isaac. Happy equinox to everyone.

aliisaacstoryteller

On Sunday morning, I visited Loughcrew (in Irish Loch Craobh) to greet the dawn of the autumn equinox. It was still pitch black when I left the house, and I was glad to see the stars shining bright and clear. It meant there would be a good chance of seeing the sun rise.

There was just enough tremulous starlight to guide my way up the hill. I couldn’t help feeling that by following in the footsteps of our distant ancestors I was enacting some kind of ancient ritual, winding my way through the still velvety darkness as they would have done, perhaps earning the right to be there by participating in that steep, breathless climb at such an early hour of the day.

Meanwhile, the faint stain of dawn was already caressing the horizon in the east, and I wondered at the mysticism of the event I was about…

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A Temporary Away Message of Sorts

Lately I’ve had no time to blog.
No … I haven’t fallen in a bog…

But perhaps, metaphorically, there’s a similar explanation:
I’ve been totally swamped by my dissertation!

Submerged in a pile of huge Braille books,
I’m Neglecting friends, and the dishes, and most else, by the looks.

And though being cooped up just makes me want to scream,
I’m consoled by the thought of realizing my dream.

It’s finally happened, the end somewhat in sight,
I’ll have to stay focused to make it all right.

It’s come to that time where the finish draws near,
So to make sure my arguments are perfectly clear,

Alas, I’m indoors, this second half of September.
I’ll try to post something, if and when I remember.

I promise a real post, one of these days,
When I finally emerge from this philosophy haze.

Conor Kelly’s Legends of Ireland, my latest book-baby flies the nest!

A new book on Irish mythology by Ali Isaac, a must read! Ali is a brilliant author, whose stories will captivate and inspire you. Her words weave a path between the worlds for anyone who dares pick up the threads and follow them. It is worth … everything!

aliisaacstoryteller

ireland_PBOOK005V2

It occurred to me that not all people who love Irish myths would be prepared to wade through a trilogy of YA novels to get to them. My Conor Kelly series are stories woven around tales of Irish mythology, as found in the Mythological Cycle, and the Fenian Cycle. Now, I have decided to liberate some of them, and give them their own ebook.

Also included is a new story never published before, based on the gorgeous love story from the Mythological Cycle, ‘The Dream of Óengus Óg‘, a tale which has certainly captivated me and dominated my dreams of late. If you enjoyed my posts on swans and shape-shifting recently, you will love this story!

So if you adore the legends of the ancient world, of adventure, magic and mysticism, mighty Kings and noble Queens, fearless warriors, beautiful Princesses and the mysterious fairy folk known as the…

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The Morrigan

Waiting, watchful
Beady eyes,
Cold, coal crow,
Follows me.

Harsh her piercing
Grating cries
Cah, cah, calling me
I run, terrified to turn, to see.

But it is time
For battles to be won,
Reclaim the sovereignty that’s mine,
Declare independence … my own.

Red veils fall
On stark terrain,
The stretching past
The road before,

Survey the ground,
Bide your hours,
Face it head-on, don’t back down
Fight for all you’re worth.

She will lead you where you’re bound.
Demand what’s yours,
And then break free.
The other side to our path. you see,

To shine, star bright, across the sky,
You must not be afraid to burn.
Strike a kindling of flame, the old to die:
In time, this balance, you will learn.

Waiting, watchful
Beady eyes
Cold, coal crow
Follows me.

Harsh her piercing
Grating cries
Cah, cah, calling me
When I turn around, what will happen? I wait to see.