White bones silvering in the earth.
Dew distorting lenses settle in eye sockets
Like globules of melted glass.
Gone are the memories of rabbit blood,
The sharp crunch of bone,
The sweet taste of marrow on the tongue.
Months within the Mother’s womb
Of warm earth, maggots, wood lice
And the gentle transforming mercury of slugs,
Have done their work.
I am awake now,
Hearing the call of the white ghost, the soul leader,
From the bosom of the May tree.
I follow her silent wings across the silver grass.
I will howl at the plump bellied moon
And live again in the tricksy night dreams of men.
© Elen Sentier 2012: all rights reserved.
I am the voice that calls from deserted hilltops
Hear me whisper in the lonely grass heaths
My heartbeat is the hypnotic pounding
Of the shaman's drum.
I speak in freezing streams if you listen,
In dreams , in visions and in rainbows
I cry in the wind as I hunt my quarry
I am in the sun the moon and the planets.
I haunt the cold, grey barrow and cromlech
I climb the winter sky with orion's sword
I died for the love of the Goddess.
I am reborn again at the winter solstice.
For I am the Child of Promise
I am crowned with holly and oak
I turn with the wheel of the seasons
I am eternal crowned with horns.
Don’t listen to the ranters
That shout about their fears.
Ignore the screaming Preachers
Incincerity of tears.
Follow what is right for you,
The path all through the years;
It’s yours alone.
In mellow autumns harvest mist
these fields of stubble, nature blessed,
now we accept the lands sweet gift
before we take our evening rest,
we DANCE, dance the spirit,
dance the spirit back into the ground.
These verses started off as an attempt to understand a friend with a great sadness in her life. I first tried to write in prose but these verses came out instead. I suppose this allowed me to try to attain a meaning that is not possible otherwise.
The ending reveals my wish for her to reach some kind of resolution and continue with her life.
I cannot feel. I am emotionless.
Then there is numbness beyond numbness and a pain beyond pain.
Only death will release me
An infinite unwinding empty path where I breathe the foul cloud of despair.
Hot coals sear my tearless soul.
Yet I tread the path for there is nothing else
I read my poetry to you
Who look on ready to be merciless?
But smiling away your interior view
Keen to ease my performance stress.
I am ready for the ritual…
The praise, my self-deprecating replies
A human warmth and insincerity jewel
In a brassy crown for rhyming lies
Close your eyes and listen to the stream.
Within this ancient green and fertile land we dwell
Of the old religion.
Free of pain, free of fear, never to hunger.
We are whole,
But our daily wanting defines us
And our striving compels us.