Perceval

Just as Perceval left the forest in search of the Grail he knew little about, there are new adventures at hand for you and for me that we can’t at this time perceive… new worlds to embrace and old ones to conquer. But it’s all for naught if you never enter the world. I have done my best to teach and guide you… to keep you on the road to the secret knowledge which reveals itself at a moments notice never to return again.

So my final advise on this day of reckoning is to breath deep and fly the middle way through the Southern Cross as you touch the Aurora. Beware of flying too close to the sun, as well as deep oceans, and keep firm in the face of adversity. For it is the man that never speaks out who walks about as though he were already in the grave.

Copyright- JC 2020-9

Valhalla

I said momma can you tell me about the love between the moon and the deep blue sea. How long did they ride the tide to the horizon where little secrets are told from afar that no one will ever hear. I remember our wings where we promised the world to one another. Running wild through miles of smiles talking to the clouds amidst the spent leaves of oak trees crushed under the foot of our shoes. And here we found the secret in the secret rite of spring… all things must pass and likewise return… the sailer to the sea, the farmer to his fields and the warrior to Valhalla and its hall of 108 doors said to be in waiting for the return of Odin.

*copyright jc 2020

Infinity

If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, Infinite.” -William Blake

Impossible dreams that eat at the moments, one by one. Throw these away into the dustbin of lost days. Too much sleep wrapped in a cold blanket of fear and doubt… false initiatives that fade like the setting sun. I could be somebody if I could only wake up.

But the Phonix must rise again for another round! And now, the time has come; realization has its moment. For you discover that the key to your prison door was with you all along… now live, breathe and be in each moment no matter where they happen to fall. Shout yes in your silence with a steady desire to constantly believe in the better nature of all sentient beings.

We are infinity and we chose not the wrong path, just one that’s meant to give direction. Like pieces to a puzzle on a dining room table… you can’t resist, pick up a piece and place it as we follow the moon to get to the sun.

*copyright 2020 jc *photo by pixapen*founded by jc 2014

The Sun, the Rain, and I

What should one do… stand-still in the rain, umbrella open, covering every inch of your body from the raindrops falling asunder like water in a perpetual storm, never-ending, no never-ending. Or maybe one should throw the umbrella aside and splash head-on into the blissful waters shouting hallelujah, ” I told you so, I can defeat the rain”.

We find ourselves wanting to be braver than Helios and defiantly trying to drive our trusted steeds into the darkest of night defying the sun god his nightly victory over space and time. What one must do and hasn’t much choice is to defeat the dragons nine. I have Parkinson’s disease and on any given day I can either walk under the safety of an umbrella or splash my way thru the rain, mud flying all over me.

Almost out of a dream I witnessed some time ago that if one goes steadfast into the direction of there dreams things happen as if out of a magic hat, the universe overrides the objects that are not needed and in other ways summons forth objects that are necessary. Everything we thought was so obvious for so long is finally so obvious.

*Copyright jc

Barataria

We were like Panza and Quixote, chasing dragons in a land of myth and make-belief The moon held your father in your eyes as your grandmother rose with the sun
Never gone, no not really ever gone… so was the pandemics lament.

In the story, I chose the inner light as I bow before inlet eyes
I was always a far eastern man at the razor’s edge, like Somerset in Paris
This enlightened rogue has not subsided but all things must pass or do they
I still sense the same ten thousand things crying out for understanding.

So remember me at Barataria by the myriad names given call to you
My true love waits for me at Barataria on the bay or by the sound
Waiting for me to find out what it means to miss, to want, to love all in the leaving.
And my leaving precludes any waiting I may possess in my wanting.

© j c

A New Mythology

Snow falling in the Mississippi darkness rolling down to the sea.” –Steve Goodmen

Recent events of the last few months still seem as foreign to me as snow falling on the Mississippi Delta. In as much as these singular events have happened before, they attest to our true colors, which are heroic and also a bit blinding at times. Still in other moments we seem to not be able to find our way home to where we owe at least a semblance of the truth. However these days the gods offer us a strange new set of hero’s… health care providers, nurses, bus drivers, first responders… they are the brave and all too few are left to deal with the aftermath. To all of us who maintain six feet of separation from one another we feel inadequate at our position in the ranks. We’ve built a fortress around our hearts and now the battlements must be set on fire

But through the flames and tears, I hear the laughter of children or is it the sounds of wildlife, a multitude of species teaming through woodland, wetland, town and country alike. Birds of all sizes and colors all returning to ancestral lands. The chemical skies and rivers below begin to clear as smog dissipates from major cities all as recorded by the eternal eye of time and space.

Is it really such a surprise that in our absence, nature is capable of making such a recovery to a time and place she knew in another age yet in the distance of only a month or so? Do we really think that we can go back to things as they were? Or should the so-called ‘new normal’ really be an ambassador to a new way of thinking? An archetype to understanding what was once hidden so deep but is on the verge of becoming. A new mythology for the Earth and its children.

“copyright 2020-09 jc… image by jc”

The Moon Is Hanging Upside Down

And everything under the sun is in tune but the sun is eclipsed by the moon… Pink Floyd

The quote above gives the impression that the moon by way of a solar eclipse can become a bit of a trickster when it comes to situations here on earth. Add to that is the ability to raise and lower the tides or, induce a mystical exsperience from dogs, wolves, and coyotes to howl in her presence. Life would be a little less exciting if not for the earth’s only offspring tethered out there in space by way of gravity… juxtapositioned at an exacts angle which gives us the seasons of the year. Just think of all the books, movies, music, poetry in existence with the moon in character. Life would be dull to say the lease. So just what is it that moves us to romance this cold gray rock of a moon? I beleive that light and love have given us the greatest stories ever told, right here in the night sky above your house, stories that bring the earth, sun, and moon out to perform each evening.

Birth of the Moon

The earth in the heavens, a much younger age, on fire, molten lava, crust solidifying. A meteor crashes into the newly formed planet. It is pushed off axis to 23.5 degrees of tilt. A chunk of earth is sent flying into the heavens, churning, forming, taking orbit around the earth, the moon is born. Because of the impact, metals are left exposed and not buried deep within the earth’s crust ensuring the industrial and technological ages of the earth come into fruition.

The ancients named the sun after the Lion, as its flames are as loud as a lion’s roar. Along the Precession of the Equinox, it’s mystical path around the milky way, everything within the sun’s reach is given light. But trifle with the lion and she could take light away. Thus a solar eclipse is what the first inhabiters of this planet saw, appearing to be the sun growing darker taking light away because of some grievous sin brought upon humankind by the gods.

The sun is eternal, its light is never extinguished whereas the moon sheds its light… it is temporal and is associated with the snake which sheds its skin only to be reborn. The earth and her cohorts, the sun and the moon have evolved thru many different ages and changed in many surprising ways as the great mother she is. And all this is written in the heavens for our enjoyment.

Yes, the moon is hanging upside down, trying to recognize who we are, hoping to see our familiar faces again… jc

*copyright by jc 2020-9 image by pixabay

Song of Amergin

With all that is happening in the world, I think back to the Song of Amergin. Besides being poetic and mysterious in nature, it has endeared itself in the hearts of all who see themselves as one with the earth. On many levels, we are the earth’s people and we have her fate in our hands. For she has nurtured all who inhabit her rivers, mountains, forest, seas, and sky. So maybe it’s time to recite our truth as the poet did on these shores many eon’s ago.

I am the wind on the sea
I am the wave of the sea
I am the bull of seven battles
I am the eagle on the rock
I am a flash from the sun
I am the most beautiful of plants
I am a strong wild boar
I am a salmon in the water
I am a lake in the plain
I am the word of knowledge I am the head of the spear in battle
I am the God that puts fire in the head
Who spreads light in the gathering on the hills?
Who can tell the ages of the moon?
Who can tell the place where the sun rests? Who but I know the secrets of the unhewn dolmen?*

*unhewn – (of stone especially) … unfinished – not brought to the desired final state.

*dolmen – a Neolithic tomb or monument consisting of a large, flat stone laid across upright stones; cromlech

Mythology
While reciting the Song of Amergin, the poet by the same name which means ‘birth of song’, steps onto the shores of Kenmare Bay in Ireland for the first time, leading the “Men of Mil” into battle against the Tuatha De’ Danann (Fairy Clan). In his recitation of the mystical song, he calms the seas allowing his warrior’s safe passage to defeat the Fairy Clan. Whereupon, he tricks the Tuatha De’ Danann into going to the underworld where they now reside in the sidhes or fairy mounds. In this, the sovereignty of Ireland is laid claim to.

Thus the song subsequently affirms the sacredness and power of the land. It also implies a challenge to the gods in which the Tuatha De Danann are considered; do not interfere and disrupt humanity.

Amairgen’s accepted into the realm of the mystics and joins the spirit of the Cosmos which commands the elements and holds court over the earth and sky.

Conclusion
The Song of Amergin comes to us as a translation into English in 1905. But other copied have surfaced with different emphases as to certain text and meaning. It’s said that the poem should be taught in schools before the Odyssey or even the Canterbury Tales.

To those with an interest in the druids, it’s implied that the poem has an emphasis on being a druid that Amergin was. But he was also a poet and the poet’s lines occupy a space in each of us pointing to our shared humanity. We are all the Song of Amergin.

©jc2017-9 Image by Pixabay

River Song

Tonight we sleep under velvet skies
As we count the days since the caravans have departed in winter’s wake
I find the beloved in a hundred murid images
The clues hiding deep in these crossed roads of a poet’s second-hand notebook.

For those of us left behind to finish with this wayward stroll
The milkiest way is full of light from Andromida’s way star bright
With nights of Blue Moon, Cowboy Junkies, and Sweet Jane
Least we forget the rain, the sky and the Hawk from on high.

Steel on steel will make the rails sing
But tonight my song is for the river the Lakota call Wakan Tanka
Take me into your murky debts amongst the sunken cypress logs
And renew me in the pure water of southern rain.

With great respect and warmth, we bid the day adieu’
May our dreams ever fall true for another nights review
And with my eyes ever-smiling across the waters wide
It’s good to ride the river with you tonight.

©jc2020-9

Image by Pixabay

So This Is Love

*copyright 2020-9 all rights reserved…images by pixabay

So this is love, of something or other.
Merlin locked in a tree by his one true love.
Kerouac his scroll of the open road unfolding before us as we traverse space and time to the hemispheres where dusk and dawn constantly kiss the sky.
Into the mystic, the slip into the stream sounds like Tupelo Honey… sounds like the love of something or other.
Tolstoy finds the correct words and purpose in the simple life of the lowly peasant…
as he holds Anna’s hand, the train roaring in the distance.
For Poe, its the Raven calling out from his chamber… forevermore, forevermore on that cold Baltimore night leaving a trail of tears and a bottle of cognac.
And yet for others, its pain when it’s honest and it’s honest when its pain.
Stranger things do happen inside the lucid mind where large is small and small is large yet they meet in the narrow inspiring insight and sound in the very words we speak yet we never hear as they catch us bit by bit and surprise us at every turn.