Last year, I endured my own personal inferno. It may be ongoing. In the hope that I am wrong, and that the disasters are approaching their end, I am blogging again. When it all began, I had a blog that I loved, but dealing with an online stalker drove me to shut it down. It was gone before events in my world got really heavy, and I missed having it, and the presence of thoughtful followers, of which I was privileged to have quite a few. I have new lyrics, new projects, and new hopes. The Mundus Imaginalis—which we will no doubt be considering at length here—is still my main source, but increasingly, the ‘real’ world inspires me as well. The name of this new blog is Rain Harp because I live in a very rainy and beautiful place, and while I am not literally a harpist, I am a lyricist, a maker of lyric poems and beaded chains inspired by rainy forests. Mist and fog accompany me, and the voices and wings of birds.
22 April 2014
Madness, Setting Forth
The field itself had wandered far before it met our eyes at length.
We’d laid down lorn and lonely, far beyond our elemental strength,
yet filled with roiling questions ancient starlight stirred with living twigs
from off a branch from off a rivered tree of petals someday sprigs
of living lyrics might descend from, here to us, as we meet eyes
with who we were and want to be—as meeting shows one eye that cries
a little bit too long each night to let rest take its shining place.
Hours after dark, stars risen high above, a lake of lace
laid out before me like a linen altarcloth so finely sewn—
and then the hand so clasped in mine, like magic, yet much more my own.
All the field of living wonder worshipped what it watched, as we
felt transient love madness, then subsided as it set us free.
Godspeed to all of us. May this Rain Harp make song long.