More Poetry for Imbolctide

So I have only been able to find a few of my poetry books, tucked away in vairous boxes… although I know more lay hiding somewhere in the house or garage.

So I give two poems today one of my own and one from the excellent, if sadly out of print, Her Words: An Anthology of Poetry about The Great Goddess edited by Burleigh Muten.

The Ancient Ones
(c) Patricia Reis

From the begining,
We have been with you.
We are the ancient ones
And we remember.

We remember the time when there was only love,
The time when all breathing was one.
We remember the seed of your being
Planted in the belly of the vast black night.
We remember the red cave of deep slumber,
The time of forgetting,
The sound of your breath,
The pulse of your heart.
We remember the force
Of your longing for life,
The cries of your birth
Bringing you forth.
We are the ancient ones
And we have waited
………………………………….and watched.

You say that you cannot remember that time
That you have no memory of us.
You say that you cannot hear our voices
That our touch no longer moves you.
You say there can be no return
That something has been lost,
That there is only
………………………………….silence.

We say the time of waiting is over.
We say the silence has been broken.
We say there can be no fogetting now.
We say
…………………………………..listen

We are the bones of your grandmother’s grandmothers.
We have returned now
We say you cannot forget us now
We say we are with you
And you are us.
Remember
…………………………………..Remember.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Note: In the poem as published there were no periods or dots preceding the off-set words, that is just my attempt to work with Blogger’s word processing.

Next is a poem of my own. I do not remember which of my growing pains or difficulties prompted it, but I’d like to think that I have learned some things and know a little better now…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mother, Light
(C) Geoffrey Stewart

Late at Night
I sit listening to Ancient Gospel Blues records on the radio
Stewing in my own anger and resentment
My mind awash with bitter Doom filled thoughts
Barely able to stir myself to light the candle.

Trying to Light my way back to Ballance
Trying to Light my way back to the Center
Mother, Light my way back home.

The candle’s light flickers in the Mirror of my Contemplation
I find myself scrying visions of my Past
Learning from and laughing at my younger self
Finding myself, hoping I will know better next time
Next lifetime, heck I’d settle for
Knowing better next week.

Trying to Light my way back to ballance
Trying to Light my way back to the center
Mother, Light my way back home.

Burning away the strangely serious pains of the Past
Imersing myself in the Cloudy and Cold waters of Renewal
Gasping for breath as I stuggle to surface from within myself
Barely able to stir myself to light the Candle.

Mother, Light my way back home.

Advertisements

So what do you think?! Opinions? Ideas? Beuller... Bueller?!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s