The stars are in our belly; the Milky Way our umbilicus.
Is it a consolation that the stuff of which we’re made
is star-stuff too?
– That wherever you go you can never fully disappear –
dispersal only: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen.
Tree, rain, coal, glow-worm, horse, gnat, rock.
Thursday, 31 October 2013
samhain + poem fragment
I toast the turning year; light candles at every door and window, for the Old Ones and for those who have gone from my life; speak to each of them of what they meant to me and what I learned from them.
All day I've been reflecting on this passing year: the losses, the shifts, the gifts, the lessons, the hardships, the things I let go of, the things I welcome in.
And – once again – I post for you this Samhain poem, or part of it, from my collection Looking For Icarus:
October morning The redwings are back, crooning over berries or skirring in flocks over the water meadows By the wall, dead montbretia heads stream like prayer flags We see ourselves more clearly when we’re not looking Calling somewhere home October dusk These nights of the quick and the dead. The earth turns away from the sun. Something of ancient fire flickers within us still; we flower like candles in grinning pumpkin faces in someone else’s window Aurora Now, tonight, under this shifting coloured sky all this falls away. You are walking, walking, staff of quickbeam, oiled boots – the long view, the green note that calls you away over these hills, where you will be another indigo handprint on the hem of night. © Roselle Angwin 2005
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