Evening Tide ‘You and Me’

On this road, my life begins
Forgotten love, forgotten friend, a forgotten child that dwells within…

Who could show it all to me as we sit on the edge of creation
Perhaps in another time, another place
So what part of me have you become
Is it you or is it me?

And in this love, I commence doubting
What part of me can I live without?
Who holds the mirror that reflects to me?
Who I think I am to be
Is it you or is it me?

When I seem too far away
In a hole where you can’t play
And if I leave will regret win out
A pain I wear that leaves a doubt
Oh whom I think I am to be
Is it you or is it me?

Mirror, mirror on the wall
Of all who’s left a mark on thee
Who’s the fairest one you see
For within another I see me.

*copyright jc 2020-11 images by pixabay-9

Echo’s In The Dark

I would hurl words into this darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of hunger for life that gnaws in us all,” -Richard Wright

In a musty old cave lie’s a treasure chest and inside are scattered amongst the various pages of an odd notebook or two contain collections of poetry and prose without a home, with no prospects in sight. These words are to the point and do not own any lavish pretenses of grandeur. They simply speak their truth as directly as possible, such as the truth a child will convey out of sheer innocence. I fear that these short verses will fill volumes if I allow them as much and bring me to task for my truth. But I will do away with my unwanted disposition of fear and let this long and winding road of words take me to where they might lead, to the river of my memory, with its rich loom on the alluvial plain of my mind.

*copyright jc 2020- 11 by 9 image by pixel

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

The Natural Bridge

Many take shelter from feeling too much within
Some will tell you it’s a mortal sin
To fly so high and steep so low
Just as Perceval in tales of old 
But to know when all else fails
When all is lost down the streets of desire
And the blind eye of regret is all that one feels
You will soon come to a realization that the truest feeling is within the heart
That light and love are born of a sacred vow
And the only real freedom there is, inhabits this very moment
The only thing they can take away from you is the gift of solitude, to fear it, to be deprived of the comfort of one’s own company
And to subsequently demolish the natural bridge to the universe…

copyright-jc-2019-9

 

October

“All things on earth point home in old October; sailors to sea, travelers to walls and fences, hunters to the field, hollow and the lone voice of the hounds, the lover to the love he has forsaken.” -Thomas Wolfe

Looking back over my life, it appears October has been a singular event for me in many ways as the first frost, covers like a blanket of crushed ice across the top of lawns and the roof of houses and barns. And what are some of the things that remind me of October? The end of the harvest… the harvest moon… the music of Bach… sleeping with the windows open… old dogs warming their chilled bones by the fire… geese flying in formation… blackbirds sing in the dead of night… bats waking from the rafters of an old barn heading toward an ageless nocturnal ritual…

The sweet fragrance of gardenias… the delicate colors of pansies… freshly brewed coffee… the season’s first hot chocolate… days of contemplation and wonder. The reflected light from the setting sun… clear and cool nights… the cat sleeps longer… dogs bark louder…hobbits drinking beer in the post-dawn sun… bats returning from a hard day’s night as squirrels gather nuts and acorns for their winter stores… the month of my diagnoses…. red-tailed hawks… walking man singing frost is on the pumpkin and hay is in the barn… my daughters birth… owls… and you are on my mind.

*Copyright-2019-9-JC

Dragonfly

I’m told that your ancestors go back to the mystic mountains of old where there are stories of many a dragons lair teeming with gold. In truth, you’re one of the first creatures to crawl out from the birth waters of Mother Earth. Many years removed from those times not only in size but also in temperament as you witnessed the Bodhi Tree, the Sermon on the Mount, the first singing of the Veda’s. With translucent wings, you fly over a tranquil pond untouched by ripples, as your mind is calm and untroubled by the dance of time and space, going beyond the known world; fluid, poised and powerful as a dancer of ballet.


Either from the gods of old or from the universe as claimed by modernity, His is the method of our forefathers that you lay secret too, where one’s connection to one’s ground of being is one with all there is.

You are the harbinger of change and maturity mining from a deeper well. A red-tailed hawk in your service flies upward to the sky, retrieving a message from the west wind destined for you.

Like a still point, you hover, meditating in your quiet way, for the awareness of an enlighten Heaven and Earth. Then to fly with wings interdependent to the six directions, across land and sea as you give witness to Gaia. Is she doomed for giving life to her less than noble children? Is it time for Shiva’s dance of fire? But alas the destroyer is also the creator, a continuum of divine proportions.For you are the very epitome of change, as you make your way through the very air you call home, onward to time evermore.

copyright2019-9-jc… images by pixabay55

Road Trip

Dear Friends of WordPress,

You may have noticed that during the last mouth or so I’ve spent less time blogging. Nothing wrong, I just decided to take a road trip, as Jack would call it. And this one took me through out the south to places known and unknown. Who knows the riches in words that will fall from this tree. We’re on the last few miles before calling on home to guide us in.

Thank you for your support, JC

copyright-jc-2019-9

Image courtesy of Pixabay

September

As fields of green grass, cover my feet, I place nine rows of nine candles…surrounding a circle of nine candles not unlike the wheels of a bicycle. Flowers grow from the center, and more grow from the adjacent rows of nine for all paths congregate at the center. And the act of lighting these candles is enough to move the very fabric of the universe and all who conspire in that endeavor… they are sacred to my eyes and in the name of love for all who travel this road.

For many love and mindfulness arrive courtesy of September, the ninth month, the month of Virgo, the virgin queen. She is the month of shine courtesy of Vulcan, the god of fire and the forge. Vulcan may be at fault for the abundance of fire on earth in September… from the hearth to natural disasters such as volcanoes and the fires of industry, but most of all Volcans real work is burning off all the negative aspects of personalities and egos of humankind. We see this when Isis disguised as a maid takes a child into the hearth and holds it to the fire.

One must do diligence in this kind of work. Whether chasing angels in Appalachia, lighting St. Elmo’s fire on the open seas or painting the rainbow, one must be quick as Pan and stealth as Mercury. Still, other jobs require a special lightness to the touch and an understanding of symbols like Om with the silent syllable or Shiva dancing in a circle of flames. Everything points to something else and that is the true magic.   

So I am mindful of the sacred order of things in the cosmos, heaven, and earth. I feel like a thief in the night except I’m leaving more than I came with. Again that is the trick as I am the true jester bringing one to a deeper understanding of themselves by way of the true sorcery at the threshold of silliness which lies dormant within each of us until we wake it up with the keys to our imagination pressed firmly in our hands.

©jc2019-9

song of amergin

In A Dark Wood…Shunngmanitu Thanka

The Lakota say that it is not uncommon
To hear something calling your name
In the stillness of a dark moonless night.
This is ‘shungmanitu thanka‘, the Great Wolf.

One night our pilgrim found himself walking deep in a dark wood; overhead a new moon disguised as its shadow self-juxtaposed to an array of stars, as the sound of spent leaves crushed underfoot sounded in the autumnal air. It seemed as though the wind was guiding him towards an expected destination as he found himself facing Sirius, the Dog Star. At this moment, his vision caught sight of a light moving swiftly in front of him in the shadows of an oak grove. Like a slow waxing moon, a white wolf appeared before his eyes lending a radiant glow to the maze of yellow, red, and green on the forest floor.

In silence, it’s believed
As though shouted
From the highest mountain
That this seer has witnessed
A vision and is in store
For a special kind of teaching.

“Through an open window in a thicket of shrubs, I saw his head turn up toward the dark velvet sky, and howl into the thin air, moving his head from left to right and back again. It was mournful and very moving like he was self-contained in a certain kind of grief reserved for a departed lover. We both sat there at a distance, careful not to startle the other, a meeting of heart and soul… a revival. And on the 3rd day, we took leave of each other, disappearing as suddenly as he came, I walked away embracing a deeper understanding of life, love, and compassion.”

The White Wolf, a native to Tibet is a spiritual presence in the Himalayas. Native Americans call on him as a teacher and pathfinders to unmapped territories of the forest and uncharted areas of the soul. Sirius, the dog star of the constellation Canis Major, home of the ancients, is his symbol, the brightest star in the night sky. Sirius is, in reality, two stars seen as one from its proximity to the Earth. Because of its binary nature, it represents the paradoxical nature of life.

The Pilgrim on his path is like a Lone Wolf, he’s not of a pack, he seeks knowledge for knowledge sake. It is not important to the wolf or the pilgrim if one or a thousand hear his meditations in the night. In his indifference to fame and fortune, only a few may hear his prayers, but as a pebble splash on the surface of a pond, vibrations will echo in these waters until the end of time.

©jc2019-9… Images by Pixabay