"...toward the Otherworld I dream, yearning to be free..."
What It Means To Be Wet
For years now I’ve stood
along the edge of this river.
The shallow water shifting over
pebbles and sand, playing
games with driftwood and fallen leaves.
Watching, wading,
here I’ve learned part of Her story.
But sometimes - when no one is looking -
I’ll lay down
and pretend that
this
is what it means to be wet.
As I lay here, submerged,
I hear Her whisper from
further out.
Her long, cold fingers invite me
to deeper waters,
yet I still hold
to roots and branches
along the shoreline.
I have sometimes believed it to be enough -
this hesitant immersion -
though, in truth, I cannot call it
surrender.
Her wells run deeper
than my willingness in wading
has ever shown.
Today, instead of clinging to the rocks,
I’m letting go.
Look for me in the ocean -
I’ll be learning to swim.
West Latta - 2009
The Poet As Husband
I write in a small shadowed corner
in order to bear light into the world,
though the light is not my own.
My darkness is no darkness to you
and nothing you should wish upon yourself,
but my light shall also be your light,
in which we shall see differently
but gloriously. I am not lame inside me,
no matter that I drag my foot, I have run here
through all my infirmities to bring you news
of a battle already won. Let my last breath
speak victory into the world. The race is run
and shall be run again, joyfully, and you shall
run with me, the territory opened
to us like returned laughter
or remembered childhood. Remember,
I was here, and you were here,
and together we made a world.
For A New Beginning
In out-of-the-way places of the heart,
Where your thoughts never think to wander,
This beginning has been quietly forming,
Waiting until you were ready to emerge.
For a long time it has watched your desire,
Feeling the emptiness growing inside you,
Noticing how you willed yourself on,
Still unable to leave what you had outgrown..
It watched you play with the seduction of safety
And the gray promises that sameness whispered,
Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent,
Wondered would you always live like this..
Then the delight, when your courage kindled,
And out you stepped onto new ground,
Your eyes young again with energy and dream,
A path of plenitude opening before you..
Though your destination is not yet clear
You can trust the promise of this opening;
Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning
That is at one with your life’s desire..
Awaken your spirit to adventure;
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;
Soon you will be home in a new rhythm,
For your soul senses the world that awaits you..
Seven Times Under
Image by Dick Verton
Last summer I was blessed to be able to attend a workshop entitled ‘Awakening of the WarriorSage’. Located in the Canadian Rockies near Calgary, Alberta, it was one of the most intense and rewarding weeks of my life.On the opening day of the event, our teacher led us out to the shores of the nearby lake where we performed a cleansing ritual, not unlike those performed at Varanasi in the Mother Ganges river. During that time and the days following, I had a particularly strong connection with water, and to this day I can recall the feeling of cleansing and vibrance that came over me as I went beneath the surface of the waves.
Seven Times Under
Sometimes she washes over me still
Just as the first time
I went under her silvery surface
Her chill breath cleansing every inch of my skin.
The ever-present drone of
The Great One replaces
The now distant din of all that went before,
Until I rise and
My ears fill again with World as
Prior moments run down my body
Back to meet her.
Moonlight bends through murky mirrors
Again I go under,
Now with eyes open to reflections before unseen
Fragments of my life suspended
In the shimmering waters.
With each following immersion and breach,
Seven times under,
A part of me washes away
And she receives me
Without resistance.
Present to this moment of cleansing
Into her arms
I entrust all that I am.
Even now as I gaze upon her
From more distant shores
She washes over me still
Her breath again caressing my skin
Ever ready to wash again,
The illusion away.
Tags • warriorsage, ritual, water, bathing, satyen raja,
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Imbolc 2009 - Untitled Poem For Brighid
Brighid, Exalted One,
Mother Three,
Fiery arrow,
Reborn of of the Old One
Bringer of new life
Builder of fortunes
Inspiration of divine word and song.
Liminal one,
Born in between,
Forever upon the threshold of death and birth
Bringer of the flame
of creativity
of rebirth
of craft,
I offer myself.
To the Mother
Of all things
You who nurture
Who offer healing
To all beings
You who offer blessing and protection
On my home and hearth
I am your beloved son.
To the Smith
Forge of the new
Through metal, fire, air, water
Your gifts shape this world
Through your craft
You give to me
Abundance beyond measure.
I am the builder of your fortunes.
To the Matron of Bards
You who inspire
Divine muse
Whose voice rises up through me
Weaver of words
Cauldron of lore
Voice of the three enchantments
Joy, Sleep and Sadness,
I am forever the singer of your songs.
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