A glass jar of marbles
We stood last night, a circle of kindred, and watched Her
Coming out from behind the crag of Mt. Olympus
Not shy, this globe of glowing silver light,
But plangent, full and bursting, assertive, a Presence.
She was THERE....and we....?
We stood, cups in hand, watching the unveiling
Sight seen so often, never taken for granted,
Her bounteous presence once again with us,
And yet new, unexpected, ever vivid and compelling
like the air you breathe every morning,
essential and appreciated,
though often unremarked.
But we had to mark Her, this night, this appearance...
It was like the processional of an ancient Queen,
Panoplied in splendor, golden, coruscating, glinting with awareness...
She would not be unregarded.
And we raised our cups, and honored Her, and bowed....
None of us, we urban-dwelling Pagans,
even for a moment thinking of Science or Technology,
But all of us awed once again, as our race has been from time immemorial,
By the living presence of the Lady,
The Mother of Lights,
In Her silvered radiance.
She is a Mystery, and we watch in awe,
As her face reveals itself to us again and again,
Always for the first time.
We drank deep, mead we had made together, and savored the moment...
Ancient wine, ancient Lady, ancient mystery of craft and kith,
Loving our Presence here in timelessness
within the globe of silver light,
And still so essentially present in our own world,
The hiss of cars on the motorway resonating with the pulse of crashing surf,
Recalled in genetic memory, though never experienced.
And at that moment, we recalled
Or thought for the first time,
Of all the Hidden Children,
over our land and other lands
All of them watching
Seeing Her in radiance,
The same glowing silver face
The same breathless awakening,
The same Awe,
Time and place compelling different circumstances
But all kindred, honoring the Mother of All.
We lifted our glasses again,
Gazing ever upward,
And felt our connection
To those unknown faces,
Perhaps also raising glasses in tribute.
We drank to them
A toast to "the Others"
Her other children,
Those we will never see,
But whom we Know,
More intimately, perhaps, than those
with whom we brush careless shoulders
In offices and stores
Where her face does not shine.
We connected
In moonlight
to all those we may never see,
But whose hearts and minds are kin to us
because of Her shining silver radiance,
And She smiled.
_________________
Love from Aisling the Bard
Maireann croí éadrom i bhfad.
*****
That came out of last night's ritual meeting. I have felt so hurried and buried by PPP reports that it is a great pleasure to have had the stillness of taking time to do ceremony, and the inspiration to write poetry. It feels like a small vacation.
I found out some information about Pete's memorial service, so I can at least mentally pencil it in to remember. But that is one in such a long list of things that I HAVE to do...wonder what the world would say if I simply disappeared for a weekend? Not that I am complaining...I am not doing anything I do not want to be doing. I just don't multitask well. My preference is to be able to take a lot of time and thought to do things, not to rush through them. But my world won't wait for me right now. So I'm rushing...
When I think of adding NaNoWriMo to everything else I am doing it is daunting...but at least I am already up to CH. 6. Problem is, I am in the middle of Ch. 6. and I have been there for three years. And I have no fucking idea where to go from the last phrase I wrote. Maybe the task itself will help. The feedback certainly will.
My friend's son left home two nights ago after a family argument. They have heard from him once but don't know where he is. He's 17. I so resonate with that. I remember David was such a hellion at that age. When he went walkabout I didn't hear from him directly for five years. I think of what a wonderful man he is...what great people all my kids are now that they are adults...and I marvel. I feel like I had nothing at all to do with it. Who ARE these people and where did they come from? A wonder....
I found our stuff. Most of it. I am still annoyed that it was taken but I am not going to obsess about it. It's back, and now it is in a safer place. Live and learn.
Second day into the SVUUS Challenge. Still cogitating what to do with Other People's Money. I had another idea besides the Piece of the Pie. I'll keep you posted.
And now to getting David and Tanya's wedding pictures up on a web site. Fun job! I am not doing any Pagan public community work today. This one's for US!!!
Love,
Aisling the Bard
Coming out from behind the crag of Mt. Olympus
Not shy, this globe of glowing silver light,
But plangent, full and bursting, assertive, a Presence.
She was THERE....and we....?
We stood, cups in hand, watching the unveiling
Sight seen so often, never taken for granted,
Her bounteous presence once again with us,
And yet new, unexpected, ever vivid and compelling
like the air you breathe every morning,
essential and appreciated,
though often unremarked.
But we had to mark Her, this night, this appearance...
It was like the processional of an ancient Queen,
Panoplied in splendor, golden, coruscating, glinting with awareness...
She would not be unregarded.
And we raised our cups, and honored Her, and bowed....
None of us, we urban-dwelling Pagans,
even for a moment thinking of Science or Technology,
But all of us awed once again, as our race has been from time immemorial,
By the living presence of the Lady,
The Mother of Lights,
In Her silvered radiance.
She is a Mystery, and we watch in awe,
As her face reveals itself to us again and again,
Always for the first time.
We drank deep, mead we had made together, and savored the moment...
Ancient wine, ancient Lady, ancient mystery of craft and kith,
Loving our Presence here in timelessness
within the globe of silver light,
And still so essentially present in our own world,
The hiss of cars on the motorway resonating with the pulse of crashing surf,
Recalled in genetic memory, though never experienced.
And at that moment, we recalled
Or thought for the first time,
Of all the Hidden Children,
over our land and other lands
All of them watching
Seeing Her in radiance,
The same glowing silver face
The same breathless awakening,
The same Awe,
Time and place compelling different circumstances
But all kindred, honoring the Mother of All.
We lifted our glasses again,
Gazing ever upward,
And felt our connection
To those unknown faces,
Perhaps also raising glasses in tribute.
We drank to them
A toast to "the Others"
Her other children,
Those we will never see,
But whom we Know,
More intimately, perhaps, than those
with whom we brush careless shoulders
In offices and stores
Where her face does not shine.
We connected
In moonlight
to all those we may never see,
But whose hearts and minds are kin to us
because of Her shining silver radiance,
And She smiled.
_________________
Love from Aisling the Bard
Maireann croí éadrom i bhfad.
*****
That came out of last night's ritual meeting. I have felt so hurried and buried by PPP reports that it is a great pleasure to have had the stillness of taking time to do ceremony, and the inspiration to write poetry. It feels like a small vacation.
I found out some information about Pete's memorial service, so I can at least mentally pencil it in to remember. But that is one in such a long list of things that I HAVE to do...wonder what the world would say if I simply disappeared for a weekend? Not that I am complaining...I am not doing anything I do not want to be doing. I just don't multitask well. My preference is to be able to take a lot of time and thought to do things, not to rush through them. But my world won't wait for me right now. So I'm rushing...
When I think of adding NaNoWriMo to everything else I am doing it is daunting...but at least I am already up to CH. 6. Problem is, I am in the middle of Ch. 6. and I have been there for three years. And I have no fucking idea where to go from the last phrase I wrote. Maybe the task itself will help. The feedback certainly will.
My friend's son left home two nights ago after a family argument. They have heard from him once but don't know where he is. He's 17. I so resonate with that. I remember David was such a hellion at that age. When he went walkabout I didn't hear from him directly for five years. I think of what a wonderful man he is...what great people all my kids are now that they are adults...and I marvel. I feel like I had nothing at all to do with it. Who ARE these people and where did they come from? A wonder....
I found our stuff. Most of it. I am still annoyed that it was taken but I am not going to obsess about it. It's back, and now it is in a safer place. Live and learn.
Second day into the SVUUS Challenge. Still cogitating what to do with Other People's Money. I had another idea besides the Piece of the Pie. I'll keep you posted.
And now to getting David and Tanya's wedding pictures up on a web site. Fun job! I am not doing any Pagan public community work today. This one's for US!!!
Love,
Aisling the Bard