Wind

Wind in my face

wind at my back
swirling
jostling
touchless coddling

how small am I
how insignificant am I
why does the wind bother with me
proving simply that I am alive?

don’t want to turn in
desperate stillness indoors
stiffling
suffocating
just breathe…

jostle me some more
feel something external
lend me some vigour
push my feet

let me back out
to feel alive
be one with the elements
bow with the trees
bend with the grass
let it shape me how it will

you can have the sun
take the rain
keep the snow
wind is all I want to know

send me sounds
send me scents
speak to me in whispers
howl at me
interrupt that sound track
bring me back

Oh Oscar, how long must I be lost?

But surely unto Thee mine eyes did show
Why I am silent, and my lute unstrung;
Else it were better we should part, and go,
Thou to some lips of sweeter melody,
And I to nurse the barren memory
Of unkissed kisses, and songs never sung.

Silentium Amoris – Oscar Wilde

When the world shows you a lute that hums without effort, hums from mere awareness of another, resonance of two souls entwined…

how does one live again in the land of mere mortals?

 

Five foot two, eyes aren’t blue

Five foot two, eyes aren’t blue
They are black as night and deeper than any ocean
How can you fathom what is at that depth?

Certain are the mysteries that never end
Always wanting to know but never do
Is it the possibility of learning that’s the appeal ?

Or is it the little glimpses that reveal a thread
Keep me going and ever curious
Will my questions and interest open up or cause her to be furious?

The depths mask a spectrum of emotion
Supposedly evident to all who look
Clearly I am clueless or too captured by her spell

All I can say for certain is I have never been so enraptured
My spirit fully and truly captured
Exposed and vulnerable, yet protective of her

I yearn to stare into those depthless orbs
Her presence is equally soothing and exciting to my soul
Never do I feel as alive and at peace at the same time

I want nothing more than to see her soar
Give her all she wants and more
See her happy and as fulfilled a the fates will allow

I thank the universe, the gods, and all who will listen
that my eyes have been opened to this beautiful being
and my foundations rattled to the core.

Seal Lullaby

I wish I could provide the comfort that Kipling describes in this lullaby.  How can I convey my hearts desire in mere words.  Even Eric Whitacre’s beautiful musical rendition only provides this peace and tranquility for a few moments.  How is my lover of seals to take heart from my heart?

Oh! hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us,
And black are the waters that sparkled so green.

The moon, o’er the combers, looks downward to find us
at rest in the hollows that rustle between.

Where billow meets billow, there soft be thy pillow;
Ah, weary wee flipperling, curl at thy ease!

The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark overtake thee,
Asleep in the arms of the slow-swinging seas.
– Rudyard Kipling

Painful distance

Enya conveys this in a way no one else can.  The pathos that her voice, lyrics and music evoke make these emotions so present.

Perhaps I need to listen to heavy metal instead!

Where are you this moment?
Only in my dreams.
You’re missing, but you’re always
A heartbeat from me.
I’m lost now without you,
I don’t know where you are.
I keep watching, I keep hoping,
But time keeps us apart.

Is there a way I can find you,
Is there a sign I should know,
Is there a road I could follow
To bring you back home?

Winter lies before me
Now you’re so far away.
In the darkness of my dreaming
The light of you will stay.

If I could be close beside you
If I could be where you are
If I could reach out and touch you
And bring you back home
Is there a way I can find you
Is there a sign I should know
Is there a road I can follow
To bring you back home to me?

        Enya – If I could be where you are

Thanks Dad, And Goodbye

Thank you – that was a very beautiful piece. The “I can do more, I can do better, I can love better, I can live better” resonates loudly!

The Chatter Blog

For almost a year now I have been dealing with anxiety and though I suspected what it was from, I didn’t truly want to face it or deal with it.  Because if I did, it would kind of be like saying goodbye.

My dad died 11 years ago.  And though I talk about it openly and freely with many people I have never really faced all that runs through my head at different times.

Two weeks before dad died a co-worker’s mother passed away.  It was a pretty rough year for the employees where I worked, in a 12 month period 7 of us lost someone very close to us, 6 were parents who passed.  When this co-worker’s mom died I remember thinking to myself-when this happens, I will be okay.  It’s the natural order of things.  And that statement was the exact wording I told myself.  And that statement…

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Dragon tales of Middle Earth: Queenstown

As always, some beautiful views from the Dragon’s lens 😉

In the Seven Sleepers’ den

At the risk of sleeping for 200years…I think I may try this.

Wonder what the religion “du jour” will be then 😉

For the Wynn

John Donne’s Poems, edition of 1633, from Chetham’s Library

There must have been many people who have come across this line from John Donne’s seventeenth-century poem and wondered who the Seven Sleepers might have been – or why the poet might have snorted there.  The second question has a quick answer: it simply means ‘snored’.  But who were the Seven Sleepers?

In June last year, I wrote a post about what was known about Syria in the Anglo-Saxon church.  As I wrote in that post, my interest in this subject arose early in my PhD, when I wrote a brief piece for my supervisor that ultimately never made it into my thesis.  This included a bit of work on the Seven Sleepers, which I originally planned to include in the Syria post; however, that one ended up getting somewhat longer than I planned.  So maybe it’s time the Sleepers…

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Hearts sing!

My floppy bunny makes my world go ’round
I once was lost, but now am found
she makes me work hard for her affection
but oh how beautiful is her inflection
if my heart could sing, how loud and sweet it would sound!

When my heart is full, it might explode,
near impossible to contain, mountain tops lookout
the sound must escape, the world must know

When my heart is empty,  the music laments
the love that feels lost
so fragile is the balance of hope and heart
does the flame flare brighter with ache or song??

Tough love…

My bunny is tough
she can be rough
a smack here, a punch there
onlookers beware
he always comes back for more…
a glutten for punishment, or desperate for love
tender, tough, or whatever she has to offer?

– Jack C. Hobbes