I woke last night on the bank of the river Styx
My sleep had stolen me, and taken me there.
A wail of song. It was low and I barely heard
The voices of thousands, stripped down and bare.

No throats to raise their voices as in life,
In numbers, in solitude, they wander by
What would've been a whisper by my tongue
From souls screaming with all their might.

The moon broke free from the earth
And left nothing in is place
But sharp edges scarring the wound

So deep, the mantle leaked out
Its protection gone away,
And met the air for the first time

It grew cool from its drifting touch
Covered over the pain
And stopped the blood from pouring free

She passed through years with barren stone
Before new life could grow
Though it came, with the salt and wind

And to see, you'd never suspect
But a mis-shape in her bed
Remembers that she was betrayed

Savannah Storm

Through the window,
Green and barren at the season’s pass,
A tree sways to the song of the wind.
My empty ears
Hear no howl or banshee’s screaming curse
To herald Lugh as he crests the hill

I am drawn out,
Careful closing of the door behind
To move near and stand alongside
As she rattles,
Baubles gently shaking at the sky.
And breezes blow, I am lightened up

Now a feather,
White and flexing in the growing breeze
Hug her waist and join in her dance
With madness -
Smiling, swaying to a silent time
That fairy bards breathe onto my skin .

The Welcome Friend

The day has come to wake me from the east
In dawnlight clothing, as each time before
Oh look - it is the same sun which returns
And greets my stirring at the parlour door.

Some say it is a new day that comes round
Knocking as a stranger from the night
Who knows not how you’ve lived outside the hour
That goes with last night’s dimming of the light

But kindly he comes in and says my name
And tells me of a journey round a stone
Reminds me of the dreams begun in love
And bids me finish lest they go undone.

“Though clouds and lands will hide me from your view
My restless flames will never cease to burn
I cannot die, nor tire nor will I slow
In faith, each daybreak, see - I will return.”


The Follower

I will build a chariot this day,
All shining gold and silver on the sides.
Reigns of silk for horses of the mist
Who need no spurring onward as they ride -
Tireless over mountain, plain and sea
To follow on the ground the flying glow.
Everlasting daylight in our eyes.
Apollo’s doting spaniels far below.
Night will never catch us in his wake
To steal our senses into sleeping scenes.
Darkness won’t deceive or break our stride.
My will - eternal morning by such means.

Ah! But He is passing by my door
And calls for me to follow far behind.
Seeing just a tiny speck of light
To guide me in this narrow, winding line.
“Build, behind the cab, a place to burn
A fire of earth - of flaming sticks and coal.
Keep it ever lit or take the lash
Of lonely winds that chase you as you go.
Woe, if you should waste your precious ride,
But if you keep this geise I will wait
For your host at this days’ only end
And feast with you as friends on our estate.”

Sailor

Between us now, soft drifting silk
Your dreaming spans the fall below
Bright and lovely, easy still
It waivers in the winds that blow
Oh, Silhouette on the far side’s edge
Silk sailor’s knot tied around your waist
My feet would dance on your vision bridge
And finally fall as it slipped away.