Legend

6 06 2013

I

Violent tendril drumbeats fly, before the ever present eye,
that wakes upon a sudden state, of loving love and hating hate,
of what we know – not think is best – the spirit is the only test,
It sits upon a shelf and asks, “Will you not look – will you not glance?

It lies in summers aching arms, and shies away when met with harm.
It soars upon the waking trees, that lilt and laugh upon the breeze,
of summers folding into night, the sheerest fame of sheer delight.
Wafting on that ever breeze, the forests scent of sacred trees.

Her spirit laughs with such delight, for though she gives, she will not fight.
She takes it in and lets it ride, upon her spirit soaring high.
For she has gone on longer than, the tufts of hide and roofs of men.
She sees them as a kindred race, and gives them love, while sharing grace.

Enfolded in her many wombs, her sacred tents and ancient tombs,
she left there what she could not give – our history – what we have lived.
It lies alone, still buried there, by deepest night and dark despair,
amongst the halls and tombs of men, who chose not love, but hate instead.

Those kindred spirits flying free, are welcomed by immortal breeze,
flying ever on the heights, of wandering souls and dreaming knights,
the places where the heart grows bare, if seed is never planted there,
amongst the things that grow so bright – and light the caverns of the knight.

They lie now where the spirit is – eternal love and silent bliss.
And when we choose to rise above, they speak the truth and sow her love.
Fey are all her sullied wings, the verses that she did not sing.
The paltry things of filth and waste, the sultry things, enjoyed in haste.
The things from which the spirit shies, though body comes with waking eyes.
The things our mortal bodies bear, but spirit cannot ever share.
Things we see through greedy stares, the fleshly wants that don’t compare,
to what she ever freely gives, her knowing love and tender bliss,
the place we live in spirits grace… when we have felt its barest trace.

Forward go her given gifts, with weary eyes, the spirit lifts…

 

II

A knight in armor standing there, with eyes of silver, dark and fair.
A star upon his breast that shines, with all the things that are divine.
He walks with wonder and with praise, of spirit that must walk in days,
where others have forsaken love – he holds her rose in fisted glove.

His spirit sees the truth that is – he seeks her lovehe seeks her bliss.
Her waking heart, her beating breast, have come to him above the flesh,
where spirit hides but ever soars, upon the still embattled shores,
of things he thought held great allure, but did not pass – did not endure.

The quaking of her very limbs, the darkest night, from day begins.
He passed before the very gate, of hating love, and loving hate.
But ever forward, ran this knight, her sullied trusses shining light…
He bore them like a banner spared, from what his body felt and shared,
within the gleam of darkest night, his spirit rallied, chose to fight.
He spoke the words she longed to hear, they fell upon her brightest ear…

I am still love, I do not hate. I come at last, though long you wait.
My body lies on distant shore, though it lives on, it is no more...
I have become what you have shared, I am the one, the all, that dared,
to see your truth and rise above, the things this body, thought were love.

She sent him back to distant shore, to where his body was no more.
He prayed to her from where he knelt – from where his spirit truly felt,
that all around was what he was, and nothing else was real because,
here his soul felt love and light, as spirit danced, through his dark night.

He begged her not to send him back, to where his body seemed to lack,
the courage felt when he was whole, when he was spirit… he was soul.
He never pined to feel again, the bodies flesh and earthly pain.
But in his spirit, now he knew, the truth of what she said to do…

 

III

She called for him to rise from knees, that never more would need release.
She told him that he could not stay, where spirit laughed his cares away.

Your mortal life is what you be, though all remain a part of me.
Your mortal voice is what is heard, above the din – it speaks the word.

Speak of what you see and feel, and tell them all that it is real.
Speak of me not what you think, but what you felt there on the brink,
of love and light, so glaring bright, it shed the darkness of its fright.
Speak of things beyond the veil, do this and you cannot fail.

Speak of angels velvet wings – a soul that loves is one that sings.
Speak of elves so bright and fair – of living love and not despair.
Speak in glory of the tale – where mortals all refuse to fail,
the test of violet swirling mist – where mortal bonds do not exist.

Write of me as whitest dove, for earth is all undying love.
Sing of me as you have heard, the air that speaks, bereft of words.
Dance before the blazing pyre, be the spirit of my fire.
Cleanse with waters of the earth, the rivers daughters joyous birth.

But most of all, be true in spirit – live as though you are still near it.
Speak the things that spirit feels – this is how the spirit heals.
Be the truth you know you are – the souls immortal, rising star.
Be the one that cannot fail, the spirit is the holy grail.”

The spirit felt the words she said, though flesh can rarely hear,
the voice within, above the din, so far, and yet so near.
He stands upon that distant shore, blazing with her light,
in his body, he is sure, that spirit, gives him might.

 

An epic re-post, or riposte.

Advertisements

Actions

Information

3 responses

6 06 2013
Ishaiya

Wow! Epic indeed. It has such a familiar tone to it, like a language that comes from a deep place within. I know it well my friend. Thank you for sharing this.
Love and blessings to you
Ari

10 06 2013
Sandy

That was just beautiful! I walked right into that one. Thank you for that.
Much Love, Sandy

11 06 2013
birchpoet

Thanks Sandy, and thank you for reading-that’s a long one.
Much love right back.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s




%d bloggers like this: