how brave the heart

Here we go with some more traditional, rhyming verse. A wise friend commented that the free-flowing muse shifted recently, bringing in a more structured energy all-around. Whatever the reason, it’s working for me. This piece seems a likely companion to a similar one I penned some years back, which you can read right here. 

 how brave the heart

Through the mist softly came a wandering  herd
Not of flesh, bone and sinew–the primary word
Arrived in the meadow bent humbly in prayer
This did not go unnoticed
By one sweet maiden fair.

What fresh wind is this?
What fate elemental?
You pierce me, my Lord!
With things rare, sentimental
The gifts that you offer, the alchemist’s table
Is prepared, set for magic through this unfolding fable.

My cauldron infused with herb, flower, and bee
Potent, my potions align here with thee
You surprise me, but yet something knowing pours through
Some deeply lodged landscape unfolds into view,
The vessel familiar, the stage rightly set
But natheless, all new: Have we ere met?

Something unsettling though earthly in essence
Moves swiftly, aloft, yet strangely quiescent
Is this destiny or madness?
Pray tell, what say ye?
Am I daft or deranged? Has the mead left me bold?
In the twinning of souls I see dross turned to gold!
The delights of the hillside, of dark, flowing streams
The drone of the bagpipe, the lancet’s gleam
Bringers of peace triumph mongers of hate
Across continents, eons, march armies of fate.

M’Lord, you intrigue me, this I cannot deny
Whether tis you that attracts or some unearthly cry
To reclaim true connection, merry greet, merry part
The ultimate opening of the universal heart
Enchantment and science the answer may give:
Why must every man die — while scant few dare to live?

2 thoughts

  1. A gentle breeze nudged a willow fair
    As she contemplated her reflections there,
    In the still clear waters of her lake
    Where many creatures their thirst would slake.

    At first from roots did she espy,
    A Truth of nature, and a Lie,
    thence to trunk, and branch did fly ,
    Her vision and the way in which, her desire to enrich,
    Was something she could not deny.

    Another nudge, and those tresses there, began to sway and flow
    And slowly slowly with the flow, did dance and swing,
    And tempted , oh so tempted, did find new places she could go.

    “Dance with me”, said the breeze,
    Free up your limbs, and move with ease
    Thresh them wildly in the storm,
    Shake out your hair, and feel free-form

    For in the spring I will carry,
    Your scented gifts, though I may tarry,
    To send the bees to hum at you
    From a Tor adorned, just now in view.


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