Taking up the challenge posted by Angela at her wonderful blog, Angela from the Center, here is an old poem I wrote (way, way, back when), posted in honor of Imbolc, a holiday we like to celebrate with art in our household.
Land’s end
And the land ends
at the tip of my finger
The cowboys and indians have fallen from the face of the earth
And we are left with nothing but the arms and legs of chairs
to protect us from the harshness of reality
Come sit on the floor with me
Let your skin mingle with dust
Your breath couple with my breath
Our bodies will form a new beast
whose growl will beckon the void
Pull it to me
Pull it to us
Welcome the engulfing emptiness of beyond
Beyond thought there is still experience
She feels without comprehending
She accepts and moves on
Goes through the motions
Swims through this sea
And flounders upon the shore of a new world
Wishing you an Impish Imbolc!
*swoons* Darling, you know I love your poetry. This one seems particularly fitting this new journey we are embarking on. So much anticipation of exploration and the unknown.
By the by, you might want to comment on Angela’s post, linking to this.
Beautiful poem, my dear. Very vivid and moving. Thanks so much for sharing this little piece of your soul!
Mom