I AM

I am not old… she said
I am rare
I am the standing ovation
At the end of the play
I am the retrospective
Of my life as art
I am the hours
Connected like dots
Into good sense
I am the fullness
Of existing
You think I am waiting to die…
But I am waiting to be found
I am a treasure
I am a map
And these wrinkles are
Imprints of my journey
Ask me anything.

―Samantha Reynolds

Dona Luna

Hag

As we move toward the Vernal Equinox in the Northern Hemisphere, the Cailleach sings:
Who is the hare that changes shape?
Who is the hag that becomes a hare?

“Nine haws,
nine knots,
a hag stone bound in red.
Eyes closed,
I sang archaic words upon the charm.
Damp earth-scent replaces turf smoke
I diminished
I re-formed
A twitch of whiskers then I was off
across the silvered land
Past lone tree,
mound and sacred well
Around the hag’s hill
then spiraling far beyond
Fulfilling work begun at Equinox.
The cycle ended I sensed the wholeness in the land.”

~ Jane Brideson, © Jane Brideson 2018
“Into a Hare”
http://theeverlivingones.blogspot.com/p/the-c.html?m=1
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Art: Andrea Redmond
Painting represents Biddy Early, a renowned Irish witch.
Cailleach Moon Cottage
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100034784932160

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Needs, Wants , Desires

My heart needs rest,
my mind wants action.
My skin needs touch,
my soul wants air.
My curiosity needs different,
my comfort wants same.
My dreams need big,
my fears want small.
My love needs change,
my loss wants safe.

I’m stuck like this, all of
my days, in the hot coal
of human paradox,
hanging somewhere
between the illness and
the cure, between the
dust of yesterday and new
scents of tomorrow,
unfinished like all books,
writing new chapters of
myself with every bit
of ink around me.

Nobody tells you that
the messy Now and
terrible Unknown can
dare to be so beautiful.

  • andrea balt