Tag Archives: future

Circle Poem

Change moves silently through this place
Embrace it if you dare
Where is the future you wish to shape
Escape the illusion of control
Whole worlds could go by without you knowing
Glowing with mysteries all their own
Wind-blown, and shimmering in the soft-spun light
Delighting in possibility, no fear
Here where moments are born
Torn from the fabric of unkempt time
Sublime, unnerving, beautiful, strange
Change moves silently through this place

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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

Sleepless Night

Why does the fog come
With sleep lurking at its edges?

It descends on me,
I never ask for its cloying hands,

Lifting me slowly, unnoticed,
Until I emerge somewhere on a path of wandering,

Not knowing how long or for what reason.
Perhaps I was not strong enough yesterday:

I did not go on marching into my future
Without heed of my exhaustion.

Still, rest mocked me through the night,
There was no respite for waiting.

Sleepless, I read about imagined people whose sorrow
Sifts like silt somewhere through my DNA.

The people might be fictional,
But the history happened.

Why revisit hungry eyes, pleading faces
Filling the void, frozen in fog?

I already relived them before,
Angry at my helplessness in the face of time.

I can do nothing for two hundred years ago
To quell their desperation and my own.

Their hands, their eyes, their words
Sound and look and feel like mine.

Flailing through this mist of many origins, I cry out,
Searching for you, needing you here.

You come, soul sister, Take my hand,
Touch the top of my head as if consoling a disconsolate child,

Showing me how to feel passed the sadness,
And return to myself, steady and grounded.

I fall asleep at dawn, enfolded gratefully in your arms,
The song of light wrapping us in peaceful calm.

Expecting

If not everything is to be lost,
There must be dreamers and their children,

To create new journeys,
And hold a flame up to what is not worth keeping.

The sparks dance, create the light,
Defiant and full of wakefulness, \

Softly, echoing as many voices.
And in the fire shapes shift, envisioned new.

One day when I have a child of my own,
I will wrap her in a blanket of journeys,

Singing to her the song of sea and stars,
Of all things wild and free, where she belongs.

With the strength left by the wild eyes of those gone before,
Flickering still from behind my own eyes,

Fiercely I will challenge the old sorrows that might find her,
And in quiet joy and patient wonder,
I will walk with her into what is to come.

*I wrote this after learning that my very close friend is expecting her first child.*

Voices From Cnoc Alúine

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/.