samhain -- oh, i miss you so

samhain.

celtic new year.

dark side of the moon.

a day to feast

and remember

the dead.

kids knock on my door.

"trick or treat,"

batman, more kid, says,

and a fairy princess 

holds up her bag expectedly.

a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.

this is the new way of doing an old thing.

i feel emotional tonight,

remembering my grandfather,

and all my relations,

even those i never met

but who still walk with me.

later,

with love and a kiss,

i pour a hefty amount

of irish whiskey into the earth

for their feast in Tír na nÓg.

a few salt tears

fall into the mix.

oh, i miss you so.

le grá go deo

Saol fada chugat 

Cha d'dhùin doras nach d'fhosgail doras

(copyright 2011)

for bear on a friday morning

old growth pine

and i'm tucked within

the bearded mossy ones.

bear is ahead of me,

scratching itself against wood

to mark the way.

it leaves behind hair

that i reach for

and hold in my hand

like gretel.

faster now,

i jog to keep up

and watch

as moccasins form

over sneakers

and claws

form over

the leather that was
just there.

deeper.

further.

wilder we go.

i stop

as the bear joins

the great council.

"sit with us, young one."

great woman,

ursa major,

comes down out of the caelum

and heats the center.

sparks of light

flicker and dance

us into seed stars

that form

the dna of her hide

and the teeth of her

careful mouth.

i look around
and i'm out there
in the sky
with the seven sisters,
winking back at myself.

all is wild
and right.
aho.

(copyright 2011)

Shifting the gaze

 Breathe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ur-intimitat in der seele

betwixt and between now.

the man in the bog

holds out a golden fish,

"take it, lass.

claim yours."

and i do.

scales become skin

and the gold fashions

itself into a drum

that pulses

in the pulmonary cave.

grandmother sits there

and lights a heart fire

that burns the way clear.

wild galloping in the distance.

i am aonghus's daughter

of the stone and cliff clan.

the ancestors step through.

the veil is thin

and the bones in my body

are theirs. 

(copyright 2011)

autumnal tumble

i wake
to a hypnogogic vision
of animals on stampede
out of the great cosmic cave.

rumbling,
tumbling,
twisting --
the vibratory
reverberations
launch me wild
out of my bed
to join the migration.

i run alongside
a purple horse
and hurdle myself on,

clinging to its mane

unbridled and unbound in the night,
free with my delight.

woman ends.
what bones are these?
mine?
its?
hair flies
who can tell its owner?
who cares.

hooves and feet
fly so fast
that time blurs
and slows
and stops.

in the dreamtime now
with a band of feral brumbies,
the alpha leads the way
through the mystery
and fear falls away
like autumn's dead.

(copyright 2011)