Friday, January 07, 2011

when words fail me...


Words don't normally fail me, but now and again I read something someone else wrote that I gasp at...that leave me forgetting to breathe...this is one of those poems - posted by Sarah at Paper Roads:

"When they ask to see your gods
your book of prayers
show them lines
drawn delicately with veins
on the underside of a bird’s wing
tell them you believe
in giant sycamores mottled
and stark against a winter sky
and in nights so frozen
stars crack open spilling
streams of molten ice to earth
and tell them how you drink
a holy wine of honeysuckle
on a warm spring day
and of the softness
of your mother who never taught you
death was life’s reward
but who believed in the earth
and the sun
and a million, million light years
of being"



- J.L. Stanley.
******************************************************
Oh Brilliant Being who lives inside my house of bones, may I ever be that mother.

5 comments:

sarah said...

Yes.

It is a catechism for a witch's child.

I always wished I had a sacred book with which to raise my daughter. But she was wiser, and knew to read the wind.

Sea Angels said...

True...it takes your breath away whilst your souls listens.
Love Lynn xxx

Jacqueline said...

Perfect.
There's nothing more to say.

Christine Crocker said...

that and all that goes with it... so beautiful...

Kerri said...

Isn't it glorious? Must write it down.