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Poem - Cosmic Connection


It is the angles who are angels

Slowly rising to ninety degrees

Pointing the pathways of stars.

Each season each cycle rises

From the zero point that is formless

To manifest as the rainbow of flowers

Or tones of scales immeasurable

That again in fullness arise to calm.

They dissipate the dew and anticipate you

Playing your part in the Now evermore....

Seed to flower and flower to seed

The moon by day connects the dreams

To those awakened long before sunrise,

Our duty is simple: we record and transmit

Etchings on metal or rock, sketchings of time

That memory has forgotten, yet, messages they are

Stories told as fires turn to white coals

Admonitions of change, sparks rising high

To meet the dancing dark of sky that itself

Has wandered so far from its beginnings...

Why do we seek understanding while

Standing under the heavens above?

T pillars and standing stones

Lintels and menhirs point the way.

Nodding heads scry out the memory

That pendulums our dreams

Of another time or place\so exactly like now...but not

We have all been here before, a chorus sounds

That melody haunts our days and in deep dark

Rolls us over and up into a mythic journey.

That nadir we seek is near but never here

The portal and doorways retreat like whispy clouds

Or fog before the gauntlet of sunrays and days

Where stories by other fires were sung

While deeper in the caves babies were birthed

In their memory to repeat and reveal again the secret....

That we are one:

One hand of a clock always moving

Yet moving in two directions indeed

One to the flower and one to the seed

Yet it is the fruit and leaf and precious root

That remains, for that is the song!

The zenith is spinning on and on and on

Always a completion of form squares the circle

And yet is already dissolved into center

For the ancestors always return!

Barbury Castle has shown us the transits of Time

They ratchet the truth up and out of nothingness

Triangles breathe tetrahedron-like and spin away

Circles collapse like lungs in that breath of fresh sphere

Yet lo that square that beckons us on is calling...

The four corners are spread full eagle

An owl from each of those angles has flown

To Sirius Orion and Pleiades and beyond

Each traces the path of souls to the Great Swan.

For there in the dark rift of timelessness we meet

The grandfathers speak of the hunt

While grandmothers still sew the tapestry tight.

Other galaxies there meet like the Haudenosaunne

Uniting the tribes, planting the White Pine

Burying the hatchets as seeds of Peace.

The great Medicine wheel is centered there

Its vertical axis pierces that heart of darkness

Where other Suns and Star-daughters sing

Of that longest journey from head to heart.

The tears we shed for our brothers and sisters

Whose wings have lifted them from sight

Accompany the owl in its silent flight.

Like seasons gone but not they are

Around the corners of this now fled

To that pow wow where they dance awhile..

They do come back, like the flowers

Like endless waves on new shorelines

They again will find their form

From their formlessness.

They dropped their leaves to delight us

In deepest winter they smile and tug at us

Remind us that they are coming back

But coming back like that hand of Time

that ever forward moves...

- By Dunk

Mon, 9 December 19 : 19:12 : Q

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