Return Of The Druid

Return of the Druid


In the days of old they called us
the Wise Women
and begged our aid
when the world beat against them.
The Druids crowned us
High Priestesses –
we raised storms to keep
the invaders at bay.
Dancers span spells
and wrought powerful potions,
bringing new life into being
and healing ill.
We brewed roots, bark, plants and
poisoned berries
and sang to claim the winds and wilds.

Then the clergy spoke and made
all the Cunning
into Heretics,
ostracized from the Divine.
We terrified them
and were ground down
under the boot of
the cruel Inquisition.
We became Witches
and the burnings began.
But we never honored Satan –
only nature.
Yet those put to question
still gave up
their friends to fire and gallows.

We now roam the land as Vagabonds
telling futures
and changing luck.
Skilled eyes that can pierce through the veil
will be Clairvoyants,
mastering the spirit world.
When doctors and science
fail to tame the feral –
they will label us mad and
damaged Hysterics.
Yet healers always find new ways
to combat superstition.
And when faith returns
I know Wise Women
will ride the moon once again.


Pictures:
Wilhelm Kotabinski
John William Waterhouse
Evelyn Nesbit

Chris de Burgh’s A Spaceman Came Traveling

A Spaceman Came Traveling

(Chris de Burgh)

Earth

A spaceman came traveling on his ship from afar,
‘Twas light years of time since his mission did start,
And over a village he halted his craft,
And it hung in the sky like a star, just like a star.

He followed a light and came down to a shed
Where a mother and child were lying there on a bed.
A bright light of silver shone round his head,
And he had the face of an angel, and they were afraid.

Then the stranger spoke. He said, “Do not fear,
I come from a planet a long way from here,
And I bring a message for mankind to hear.”
And suddenly the sweetest music filled the air.

And it went “La la la la la la la la la,
La la la la la la la, la la la la la la la la la.
Peace and goodwill to all men and love for the child.
La la la la la la la la la, la la la la la la la, la la la la la la la la la, oh!”

This lovely music went trembling through the ground
And many were awakened on hearing that sound,
And travelers on the road
The village they found,by the light of that ship in the sky
Which shone all around.

And just before dawn at the paling of the sky,
The stranger returned and said, “Now I must fly!
When two thousand years of your time has gone by
This song will begin once again to a baby’s cry.”

And it goes “La la la la la la la la.
La la la la la la la, la la la la la la la la la.
Peace and goodwill to all men,and love for the child.”
And I hear “La la la la la la la la la la la,
La la la la la la, la la la la la la la la la la la la,
This song will begin once again to a baby’s cry.”

Oh the whole world is waiting – waiting to hear that song again
Standing on the edge of the world.
And the time is nearly here . . .

That song will begin once again, to a baby’s cry.

 

 

Check out this imaginative video version by Artwayfarer:

 

Fairy Dust

A few wires –

a leap from reality –

and Peter Pan took flight

through fairy dust

in front of us

on an ordinary weekday night.

And glitter

shone in the eyes of the child

sat there all evening

stock still – grinning –

finger in mouth –

catching his breath and believing

every tick

of the crocodile’s tock-clock,

and each brave sword blow,

walking the plank –

taking the plunge –

without ever needing to slow.

Peter Pan

And I ask

myself why the magic is

sham and corrupt,

in failing to

 ward off those

pirates of old –  our growing up?

(Degrassi Wiki Gif in Public Domain)

Blessed Be

Don’t overlook me

   or underestimate my power –

I rock in the darkness of night

   on a misty bower.

Moon

The clouds troll my words

   and carry my message on air –

slashing the canvas of space with

   a shadowy tear.

There’s fascination

   veiled in many disguises –

but some seek only the darkling

   feral surprises.

I glow beyond time

   like an ancient wayward daughter

birthed of the moon  – You can simply

call me an author.

Fear

 

I slid through the gap and into a spiraling whirlpool,

landed inside the gray with a nauseous splash.

Trees stood stripped of dignity, shuddering in the twilight

of winter, naked but broiling with torturous stakes.

Eerie

As branches drowned in the wake of death their fingers pointed

through ripples pungent with sulfur and blue, bruised blood.

Shock took captive my slipping heart, which spluttered against the

ominous fog creeping in to steal my good eye.

 

Queens of the Stone Age’s Burn the Witch

Burning

Burn the Witch

(John Homme, Troy van Leeuwen)

Holding hands,
Skipping like a stone,
On our way
To see what we have done.
The first to speak
Is the first to lie,
The children cross
Their hearts and hope to die.

Bite your tongue!
Swear to keep your mouth shut!

Ask yourself,
“Will I burn in Hell?”
Then write it down
and cast it in the well.
There they are –
The mob, it cries for blood!
To twist and tale
Into fire wood!
Fan the flames
With a little lie,
Then turn your cheek
Until the fire dies.
The skin it peels
Like the truth, away –
What it was
I will never say.

Bite your tongue!                                                                                                                                                             Swear to keep your mouth shut!

Make up something –
Make up something good.
Holding hands,
Skipping like a stone,
Burn the witch,
Burn to ash and bone!

Rose

 

You gave me a rose

in the bandaged wraps

of winter.  Plucked of

the heart.  Pulsating,

dripping with love and

valued more than blood

rubies.

Just a small

gesture.  Rich spiral

of life,  juxtaposed

on frosted snow sheets –

but oh! so poignant.