pebble falling
floating into hidden depths
it settled on the river bed
to rest there
long and lasting
rolled only by the river
moved by natures forces
while the ripples hit the bank
and rippled back again
where do the ripples go?
how far would they continue
if there was nothing
to contain them?
would they go on and on
beyond my power of seeing?
words are just like pebbles
reaching hidden depths
they too have their ripples
bouncing off each other
spreading outwards
in ways we never know
up in the mountains i had a vision
a river flowed upstream
a friend handed me a rifle
she said ‘the world is full of surprises
we had better be prepared’
”you cant fight nature’ i replied
***
weeks later i went to see a friend
the news had all been bad
i was so glad to see him
my heart was over-whelmed and sad
he gave me a kitten
very small and white
her soft fur was a comfort
‘look after her’ he said
he gathered all his keys
and battened down the house
it was already shaking
its timbers groaned alive
gale warnings were on the radio
he said ‘we have to go
button up your coat
it’s very cold out there’
I held the kitten close
there were riots in the streets
young girls fought, kissed, taunted boys
the old were pushed aside
there was fire and looting
broken windows, shattered glass
lost children and screaming crowds
he lead me by the hand, he sang
he said it was an old song
i was glad to hear it
he sang it strong and clear
it did so much to cheer me
a man started to shout a speech
but all he said was ‘listen’
we left the town behind us
and then the weather came
raging rivers, rising seas
broken dikes, banks breached
swirling mists and fog
on the hills that we had reached
the road was surging water
the wind howled to wake the dead
and waters ran upstream
rained lashed against my eyes
we scaled higher over rocks
smooth, adamant, gleaming
with semi-precious polish
i imagined them forged in fire
when the world began
the kitten huddled closer to my chest
he said ‘maybe we should speak of this
acknowledge what this is,
the apocalypse has come,
its stupid now to say it isn’t true’
‘i saw some of this in a dream’ i said,
too shy to say it was a vision,
‘the rivers and the seas all ran the other way
i saw these polished rocks
black and red and white, shining
molten in fire, cooled, made solid by ice
will angels appear in cloud formations?
do you think they will be coming?’
he shrugged and smiled
he dragged me by the hand
we struggled up
then we found a dog
the dog was glad to follow
we became a traveling group of four
the raging gale began to drop
i saw a house
he pulled me through the door
he had made a home here
years and months before
in an empty hospital
the walls were painted gloss
he had built a wooden stair
that lead up to a loft
the wood was dark
and warm to the touch
my mother was safely there
she was frail but well
the strong wind had blasted
the lines from her face
she looked young again
she was packing and unpacking
and tidying her hair
distracted and confused
in a hallway, very simple,
beneath the wooden stairs
i saw four doors
all blank and bare, but one,
i knew this one was his
it was emblazoned with a sun
with golden wings spread wide
he gestured to the doors
‘one of these is yours
which one you must guess
and make it feel your own’
i didn’t care which it was
rescued, saved and wanted
i was happy to be there
the rooks nest in the Linden
a long established colony
the trees stand out, bare of leaves
flat grey clouds and stillness
nothing enters this empty street
it’s a quiet Sunday
the bins await the refuse men
collection Monday
beside the houses whitewashed bricks
weeping willow, drooping, static
May is slowly budding
daffodils split the earth in triumph
the garden now is overgrown
a lone child kicks a stone
the empty table and six chairs
of weathered wood awaiting summer
i open wide this window
to listen for a sound
i hear a bird call, the creak of wings
as two wild geese circle to the river
no other sounds reach my ear
nothing moves in gentle air
there is nothing more to hear
this quiet Sunday
Having seen a phrase about a mountain path beset with tigers I recalled a dream I had in which my dream horse (a frequent visitor) was unusually allowing me to guide and choose our path (usually I just go where I am taken) and I began to ascend a very steep mountain track and my horse began to struggle but yet still obeyed me until I felt ashamed of the damage I was doing to the horse so I stopped and apologised. My horse immediately forgave me and turned to pastures and galloped to the sea. I took this dream to mean that if we ‘’go with the flow’’, that is Awen, we learn far more than by forcing our own view and decisions upon our life and the way – the sea is not high like a mountain (where perhaps I had foolishly wanted to ‘dominate the peak and look down on all’) but it is a symbol at the very least of the source of life and it ‘’goes with the flow’’, and the moon.
I have also written a poem about a year ago about encountering a dragon in a steep place and the Tower (interspersed with some comments from ordinary daily life when when my dreaming is not looked upon favourably by others). All I longed for was peace by the river (with my muse) in the realm of imagination and the natural flow of the path. Obstacles can be overcome with some determination but most of all with imagination.
Escape from the Tower
Climbing the mountain, trying to reach the tower
Confronted by a dragon, endlessly asking me riddles,
While a great storm gathers all about us
Thunderbolts roar, lightning reflects on my shield
(“What do you do in that room all the time?
What are you thinking about?’’
I stop and get the food
And gather the rubbish that needs to go out)
I am losing my footing on the slippery rocks.
The dragon flashes his eyes with desire
I have to succeed, cannot be overpowered,
I call on the rain to quench his fire
(“Always off in imagination,
What’s wrong with you?
You spend hours on that
And it’s not even true’’)
I answer the final riddle, the dragon steps aside.
My way no longer barred, I struggle on up the mountain.
The tower reaches up to the clouds
Eagles circle above, come to help me in my troubles
(“I know you have talent?
Why don’t you use it?’’
“I work too!’’ i say
“You could work more!’’ says she)
The eagle carries me up to the princess, we hover.
She reaches out to me. I swing her onto the eagles back.
My arm circles her waist, her hair flies in my face.
She leans back on me in relief.
(“You always were some other place,
Even as a child. No different now than ever.
Why can’t you just be normal,
And stay in reality?’’)
We circle together above the now sunlit valleys
Looking down from above, we avoid all the cities and castles
And land in a summer meadow by a singing stream
She adorns herself with flowers, I dream
dreaming of shipwrecks
ragged rocks
pounding surf
wind turning fast
this ship rides the waves
as we aim for the Pole star
leading us homeward
watching for lights
and the beacons that blaze
no more cross currents
no undertow darkness
we are sailing for land
on a swell and wave
cutting through sea spray
the boom and the crash
of the thundering breakers
as we cross o’er the bar
from sweet tidal ocean
the moonlit path reaches
the beautiful river
and harbours embrace
bringing us back
where we are remembered
for just who we are
drop anchor
make fast
and sing of the sea
Oberon threw a web of stars
Titania washed it with the dew
Roses opened,
as they should
Gentle daughter of the Tamar
Titania sleeping, dreamed of you.
Oberon bought you here
to dance
He pulled you from the depths of river
Placed you on a marble bridge
Leaving all the rest
to chance
Puck is always quick to meddle
He loves to open lovers eyes
He pierced me
with his well aimed lance
The river never flowed so far
The world was never quite so new
All was peaceful
in the wood
Gentle daughter of the Tamar
Tender smile and heart that’s true
Magic shines
in all that’s good
When we were young and dreaming
we hired a boat, floated beneath the bridges
made of worn and ancient stone
we rowed stronger and further than anyone else
to be alone on the tranquil river
We pulled in and laid back beneath willows
toes touching, smiling, reading
while the afternoon drifted downstream
dazzling sparks and flashes on ripples
sunlight filtering green through the leaves
We never thought to look deeper
into the darker shadows
to the tangle of weeds beneath us
but we rowed against the current
to make our way home in the evening
We were young and we were dreaming.
Entering this fantasy
Leave not the Grove
That is my home.
However far
You may roam
Walk straight ahead
To find me.
Let no dragon,
though he be fierce,
Bar you from this vision.
Ignore the bridge
That is not mine.
Turn right
Onto a dreaming path
Where woodlands grow
In beauty.
Walk on
Along the river bank.
The way across
Is secret.
Travel
In the midnight hour
To better see
The lighted way.
See the heavens
Crystal shine
Across the dreaming river
Where currents flow
In silence
And sunset glows
Forever.
You have the key
Inside your heart
The waters will not part us.
they are not far away, they are near
the old gods cry out to us
from beneath city streets
come closer, if you would hear
the moon is hidden in daylight
waiting to light the path of the night
in silvery tones and pearl
come closer, if you would hear
the trees whisper a constant prayer
the voice of the leaves, the dance of the branch
the breath of exchange that holds us all
come closer, if you would hear
the rivers run out, the veins of all life
the clouds pour down a blessing
the sea is the constantly beating heart
come closer, if you would hear
above the rooftops venus shines
the daidem, a star, entwined in her twilight hair
she sings the song of the life spark and the long dark
come closer, if you would hear
they are not far away, they are always here
the world is a garden for which we must care
before the old gods slip silent away
come closer, if you would hear
The Dreaming Path 