Tag Archives: cycles

Threading Over And Through: The Endless Journey

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Far beyond that one, ephemeral day,
Vitality ever flies, clear and shimmering.

Within the lone wolf’s mournful howl
They heard their own cries, calling out, calling in return.

These are ones who lived beyond their sorrow,
For all in their sunrise to see.

the sunset Of their one flutter of light
Has scattered their existence.

Perhaps we will glimpse an old reflection of ourselves,
In the still and silent water,

Or perhaps, when the lightning strikes,
We will once again raise leafy hands to the sky,

Aware of the intertwining roots,
Anchoring us firmly to the heart of earth,

And the way we take light into ourselves,
A feast of the many colors.

The great charged arcs from the dark clouds above,
Illuminate the core of us from inside out.

I am here, now,
In this starlit night,

And I become the lonesome wolf cry,
You, the moon I call to.

You, shining through the mist beyond the horizon,
I find we have once again traded places.

I will shelter you from the storm,
Though its anger strikes out, I stay your tears.

The map is lost,
Though that’s not stopped any of us from making the journey,

And always I will hold you safe,
Far from bitter winds, even when it seems no one understands.

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Plato’s Cave

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Again I’ve stepped from Plato’s cave
Where no idea is self-made,
Surprised how cold thought’s pure embrace,
Beneath eternity’s marble face.

I’ve come before here once or twice,
Its beauty chiseled out of ice,
Such stillness, not a rock exhales,
Pristine, unmoved, things-in-themselves.

A permanent transcendent time,
Is the world of Forms, the Good, Sublime.
Staring out of fixed stone eyes,
A changeless gaze, a semblance of the wise.

But what’s remembered lives, it’s the truth I understand,
And the whispering trees whose spring leaves appear,
In winter shake their branches clear,
Cycles turn time’s circling hands.

Mired in the sticky sap of love,
Gently dry the loss from grief stained eyes,
And the unkempt joy and laughter of
Each person’s full and fragile life.

Such a vibrant, wondrous mystery,
Sacred the shadows, sacred the living light.
What tales can be shared without a history,
Or in the silence of perfection, where no day follows night?

I have no need of any rescuing,
Nor need of wandering the ideal world above,
And it’s in the breaking open, that I fly free,
To soar with laughter, tears, and love.

Voices From Cnoc Alúine

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Caoilte

I will raise mountains to the sky
I will cover Islands with the sea
And I will gather broken things
And weave them quietly through dreams.

I will sing forgotten songs
And lift my voice, though none join in
And I will come by wind and rain
To see the lost live once again.

Ailbhe

Who will count the landscape’s scars
The path is red, blood of old stones
Shards of time, earth mother’s bones:
Once more found, are we never alone.

I

I will journey on the seven tides
To find the reason for your cries,
And I will sit in surrender to
The sadness welling up in you.

For you who are so very dear,
I will hold the far more near
And shed a single, weary tear
For all the dreams that flew from here.

Oisin

The great conversation is not halted
By the sun burnt desires of the taking
I am here in all that is,
What lies broken, all awaking

Do not cast a cry from the tallest trees
For what was never meant to last
Has not future met it’s origin
Has not the child come home again,

Striving for beyond,
And held the strands of the pattern in weaving between her fingers,
To become the song of sunbeams whose streaming laughter lingers?

In your hand you hold the vast and through it learn to soar,
Patiently within you, for child, it is yours.
There is no turning back, only turning, earth and seasons turning,
A time for growing and relearning.

Time to realize we’re all some mother’s child,
Time to honor and continue to rekindle
The wild look in your eyes,
And the color of belonging, green and blue and wise.

Did you really think there would be a single one
Who would not make it to the other side?
Change, the knot
That cannot be undone, it lies

Between our orchestra of longing,
And the whole with fractured facets rearranging.
And among chords played, between silences, we fly,
Letting go of all that’s left behind.

Life shimmers like a firefly’s light,
Transient and tenaciously, we dance what’s yours and mine.
Life leaps in joy and wonder into everything,
Glowing then for all it finds.

Life strikes out in frenzy through forever,
And for that, ever, ever shine.

*This is in response to my friend Ali Isaac’s post, “Almu, The Home of Irish Hero Fionn mac Cumhall,” which you can read here: http://aliisaacstoryteller.com/2014/05/15/almu-the-home-of-irish-hero-fionn-mac-cumhall/.

Through The Looking Glass

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Child searches for one who loves,
Child watches, child searches,
Darkness falling, between them falling,
Love and child once more parting,
Leaving always, always leaving,
Waiting there where naught remains.

Waiting out the darkness, darkness taking
Loved one away, love eclipsed by shadow,
Shutting out the world surrounding,
Child lost, in lonely light wandering.

And though a new world child’s gaining,
And though otherlove, crosses, reaching,
To the other side of waiting,
Child’s loss is overpowering,
Child’s world will never be the same.

Old one searches for one who loves,
Searches, searching,
Love and old one parting, leaving,
Once more leaving, once more wandering,
Through darkness wandering though naught remains.

Darkness falling, darkness shutting
Out old one’s world,
Til blindly stumbling,
Ever waiting, ever wondering,
Old now,  in dreams calling,
Old dreams come calling.

No answer falling, only falling,
And wait for the door, for the bridge of crossing,
The known world now away is falling,
Vales between the worlds are parting.

Another world is there in waiting,
The world beyond the world there waiting,
A homecoming made from the departed,
Into a world that will never be the same.

The cycle turning and returning,
Hoping light can ease my yearning,
Dare I dream of no more leaving,
Belonging to the vast and living,

Giving voice to love and sending
All that darkness swiftly fleeing,
The whole of it, the opposite of all that’s fleeting,
Hoping to rekindle what remains.

Longing, hoping beyond all reason,
Wondering upon this turn of season,
Could pain, come passing by, elude me,
And wandering no more course through me,
As if the rhythm of no place knew me
Pulsing like my blood through veins.

That the seeds of sorrow I might evade,
That of joy and laughter my life be made,
And of separation I be not afraid,
If I ever do come ’round again.

Cycles turning and returning,
Young and old as bookends  yearning,
Birth and death two  mirrors facing,
A patterned reflection, traced, retracing,
Wondering if aught had changed.

This time when the door swings outward,
This time open, outward turning,
With child’s eyes upon returning,
May darkness wait and keep on waiting,

May nothing but wonder, joy of learning,
From dawn to dusk be within me growing,
May the world so whole and ever knowing
Be the whole of what remains.

And then once more the world beholding,
Child once more, from earth unfolding,
May none but love see to my enfolding,
The light that all sustains.