Thought = Form
And the sun sets, crimson.
And the sky dawns, iridescent.
And the leaves dance, merrily
Stars are born
And the universe floats, unimaginably
We live for tomorrow and lose the day.
We worry always as life slips away.
We fret for what we have not.
And forget what we have.
Tomorrow is never here.
And you have this day to live.
Some days never change, some never stay the same
Music dances lyrically and the song remains the unchanged.
Life passes in bits and pieces, moments frozen in time.
Is there a need for tomorrow, to wake again?
Banfiadh – Wolfthought5/2018
One foot in tomorrow and one in yesterday.
The passage of the ages never seems to fade.
Strewn across the vastness like ripples in the shade.
I see in all the memories the moments we have made.
My eyes within the heavens and feet fast on the ground.
Each tear or toll of laughter passes without sound
Upon my inner eye does play the memory of you.
Two souls softly touching, an extraordinary view.
Within me burns eternal sun tempered by your moon.
Born within the vastness of creations dawning tune.
We are lost across the cycles of times eternal tide.
We’ve strolled in meted chaos, quite often side by side.
Heart within the heavens and soul on forever’s shore
Our passage has spawned legend, lost in days of yore.
Born within the darkness two lost and wondering lights
Alone in isolation until we heard each other’s cry.
Children of the starlight, we are travelling this song,
This journeys crossed forever and continues to go on.
As we were born in nothingness strewn with stars anew.
Life is lost and empty without a touch of you.
The Spell of Being
I am without time.
I am all times.
I am a speck of dust
I am a mountain of stone.
I am without form.
I am all forms.
I am the last Spark of Hope
I am the Inferno of Creation
I am the unseen Past.
I am the unknown Future.
I am the soft sigh of Death
I am the gale of Chaos
I am without Life
I am without Death
I am a silent Tear
I am an unbroken Wave
I am Spirit without form
And I am Form in Spirit
I am not
Posted in Art, Ideological, path, Poetry, Religion, Spiritual, Uncategorized Tagged chant, creativity, dreams, earth, faith, Meditation, Poem, Poetry, Ritual, Self, Spell, Spirit
Dust . . . cyber dust everywhere.
Started digging into papers and efiles and folders to see what I can find between writing new stuff and working on other projects.
I hadn’t realized the number of unpublished bits and pieces I have left laying around.
Somewhere, most of them are on physical paper too. Or the seed of the thought that transforms from a fleeting word painted image into something else.
Poems in metre, poems that create their own cadence. Furious diatribes and heady heartfelt schisms.
Scattered wantonly across my hard drive.
All while trying to tease new material from behind the veils of my inner scratch pad . . .
An excerpt from life.
Since I started this site, it has been an on again off again experience.
Until recently I lived in a situation which often hindered my creativity or desire to express in line, color or in word.
Often when I couldn’t craft and create, I could vent or rant, which is why I opened Ravensong – because I hesitated to hybridize the artist, with the cynic.
With a change in living situation, income source and finally, the “downtime” from the rat race my nature desires as an artist and the creature I am, my mind has started scribbling again, doodling across the vast empty canvass of my inner sight.
And thus here we are. Fresh new poetry, new art turning over in my mind and much to my delight, rummaging through my files bits and pieces that I have dusted off to share here.
Winter is often my best time as a working person to craft. It’s rather difficult to play outside when all you see is dark, and more dark. But it is fertile rich soil for the creative child, so off on my artistic tricycle I roam, to see what I can see.