Sadness

When sadness is all you know

And in the morning you get up
And you try to find an inch of caring
And you paint on a smile
And you moisturize your frown
And you put on your armour
All black, all red, a stunning dress
Yoga pants and tunic
Anything, everything to hide behind

Do not see me–
Get distracted by my armour–please!

Do not see me–
As I fade into the background–please!

I can’t fade.
I am too much.
Too obvious.
Too present.
And then there are words faster than my brain tumbling out unsuspectedly.
So I hide.
Behind my armour of distraction.
Homemade–my silent prayers woven into the fabric.
Not even dragon claws could cut through.

So you carry the hills, the wood, the sea, within. Anchors in a wild wild world.

You might carry faith, belonging, love.
You might carry anger, pride, resentment.
Opposing mechanisms for the same purpose: To keep you save
In this wild wild world, from whom you need to hide your pain.

If only

If only you would talk
If only you would listen
Or entertain a thought
A thought to understand

There is so so much more
Much more you could imagine
You think you know the truth
But there are lies you cannot fathom

If only you would come
Come face to face somewhere
If only you would brave
The time with him and her

I think all you would see
Is so so so much love—love unconditionally
Although it’s not the love
That lets you away with inanity

It’s love that holds accountable
Us to one another
But none of that gets solved
By pulling down the shutter

The shutter is so easy
A safe space to hide
It is the false illusion
That let’s us keep our pride

But is the cost of pride
Worthwhile all the shunning
Is the cost of ego
Leading you into the traps of someone cunning

Because if we cannot see
Beyond our pulled down shutter
How can we ever truly see
The ‘me’ of one another

A Prologue

The moon stood in an almost perfect circle on the firmament. For her, this meant time for ritual. The priestess sighed sometimes she wished there were different ways. Sometimes she wished she could refuse to see.

It was a warm summers’ night despite the light rain that hung over the coast for days. She loved this weather, the rain was not strong enough to permeate the clothes and mist arose steaming from the meadows, floating over the small creek in front of her house. This is the time when the fairies are dancing, her thoughts drifted to the heavy scent of wet soil, dead leaves and moss that filled the air. How she loved the smell of the woods and earth, entwined with the salt of the sea. She took deep breaths and enjoyed the peace, while the wolves howled in the distance. They are howling to the moon, they are praying like me; she thought and sighed. There was change in the air soon, far too soon—but not yet.

Her hut stood in some distance from the settlement. It was close to the sacred place she took take care of at the foot of the mountain range. The mountains silhouetting in the back of her house framed the idyllic place she called her home for a long time now. She was contemplating how much she had enjoyed the years here. What would she be doing? Would the change force her to leave? Should she go back to the green isle? The wolves where still howling, soon, far too soon—but not yet.

She forced the dark thoughts away and tried to focus on the task at hand. Taking in the chilly night air with deep breaths she tried to empty her mind. She had washed face, feet and hands before taking the gifts to the goddess. Fresh milk, oatcakes and some flowers would do during an ordinary summer’s night. When she reached the place close to the waterfall she put the things down on a little altar and poured some of the milk into the water. After she bound her skirts up with a knot Rhiannon stepped into the stream. The cold mud squeezed through her toes, invigorating fresh water around her ankles washed the tiredness away. She pressed her feet deep into the mud. With raised arms the young woman looked like a statue, carved into the landscape for eternity. The moonlight reflecting off her skin, left her seemingly translucent. She stood in stillness the only movement was a gentle breeze in her hair.

The wolves where howling again in an eternal night in an ancient time singing old songs of life, singing old songs of love, singing old songs of war and of hunt.

But they were also singing the song of change, as the earth had told her, change as the water had told her—a necessary change the fire had said. And she sang to the moon and to the wolves the ancient song of life.

Soon far too soon, but not yet.

Warrior

The age of wolf is over
Steel blue eyes scanned the horizon for signs
Steam rising from calcified nostrils
The echo of a tremor underneath his soles
The dragons are awakening

They are dreaming of eternal ice still
Ice not so eternal anymore
That time when a 3000 meter thick sheet of frozen elementals
Was gliding like high pressure clingfilm
Over the rough hunchbacks of the the dragons

Their nostrils hidden underneath hills They are so old that they spend eons growing into mountains
And eons more being ground down by wind and water and ice
But now, but now they are stirring
The dragons
The age of wolf is over

Blood-Guilt

Blutschuld

Sister, sister don’t you know
There is no longer blood in snow

You’ve learned, you said
Now make it so

Sister, sister don’t you know
There is no longer blood in snow

I broke the bounds of guilt for you
Now please do see your learning through
Come home
Take place
The one ‘s been waiting
Let go of mine you have been baiting

Sister, sister don’t you know
We have let go of blood in snow

Let go of sins—so ancient—past
Let go of hate—it may not last
Let go of anger—that’s unjust
Let go of pain—you may now trust

Sister, sister don’t you know
There is no longer blood in snow

Let go of giants made of ice
Let go of darkness—soul in vice
You’ll find your calling as you claimed
And I teach you to dance in rain

Sister, sister don’t you know
There is no longer blood in snow
The sun came out and brought you love
Now spread your wings; fly little dove

You are worth it–always

You are worth all the stars above and the stones below.

You are loved as much as rain falls,
As often as sun shines,
As many times as wind touches your hair.

Over and over again.
Every morning or night,
Every time you come into yourself,
You are told:
You are worth it.
You are loved.

This love is there when you stumble.
This love is there when you cry.
You are worth it in your darkness.
You are worth it in your light.

And if you ever doubt it, doubt that worth of yours.
Then pause and look around you and listen for the love.
Be gentle with yourself.
Forgive the ‘you’ you hate.
And then with arms wide open,
hold your you in tight embrace.

And give this love to yourself.
And give this worth to thee.
This is where we all start out.
On our journey to heal.

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