Down, down, down the slope she ran

Like the wind.

The wind that caught the moon’s spray and the flowers spirit,

washing her like a newborn.

The fog settled.

Only the enchanting Uillean Pipes sounded.

Dawn or dusk?

Her heart beats to the swift swing of the Bodhran.

Across the miles, this lonely wanderer wondered if the sky ever ended.

What was beyond?

Her eyes open, she sees the dance and forgets.

Lost.

Her eyes fill with loving warm tears and they fall in a faery slide down her face and she tastes for a moment

 The salt of her pain.

“This little piece has been stored for eternities”

Luring and mysterious are her eyes; you just love her.

She is the essence of innocence and scent of the wild vixen.

Dancing in a sea of wonder and lust, amazement twinkles from her mouth and soft play sounds in her ears.

A puppy look and a cry for lost love.

Empty but so full.

Her head goes down as the sun sinks into the ocean.

“I can’t speak”

“Why not?”  answers back a voice.

“I’m empowered,” she cries in amazement.

“In the dark you will rejuvenate and continue to grow and in the light you will be gracious and alive”, it says.

“Yin and yang!”

“Oh yes, child, you see the Tao in the fog,

in the closed flower.

Now accept the dark to compliment your light.”

Faster her heart beats to the enchanting, witchly, ghosting sound of the flute on the air as the pace picks up and fly’s past your eyes…

There she is

There she goes

Like all existence in a bubble of Og,

In a snowflake of De Dannan,

In the snake of the Mayan Sun,

In the gold of the Incan eye,

In the love of all beings ever,

In the sound of a note, which has pitch beyond all the depths of your ear,

Like a feather.

A splash of water is coaxed to the crest of her eye,

and sits,

refusing to drop

refusing to leave

holding on for dear life.

All that pain.

“Now I can’t see,

 nothing falls!”

A lonely face in a living shell

A timeless soul in a mortal hell.

“No this is not true,

my contracting stomach needs to tear out you.

Oh yet I exhale in the sound of a cry

Deep within is the skinning high.

This sound that beats,

Now I’m awake!

I’m dreaming and laughing a dance… not an ache.

I

held

in.”

And she stops.

They fall.

They fall and she’s sad.

“I find it all so hard yet so easy.

I hide on the other side.

The 2 women inside

I protect with fire,

In my spinning pyre.

Sweetly lifting my soulful care,

Afflict no more in the thorny snare.”

Her romantic heart beats,

And she’s lost for words.

The image splits and the 2 sides sit back to back.

One with her head in her hands,

The other with crazy wild eyes.

Her consciousness engulfs and spews up more thoughts, as they pass back and forth with each other.

One whines.

One whispers.

One screams.

One reflects.

One spits.

One drinks.

“But there is no duality”.

The pull of the pole

rapturing the governed whole

leans a devilish green,

bringing forth the world in between.

“I heard once that Yeats smoked Hash,

I wonder where he got his enlightening stash?

And if  Wolfe Tone embraced the sky, with a tear in his lost and legend eye?

Does McGowan drink to inspire his soul?

Does Christy invoke a pagan role?

Did Chuchulainn laugh to the flap of the wren?

Did the women rule Eire before all the men?

Did the oceans tide on the Isle of Green while the moon filled beings seen and unseen?

Is the dance of the sky the women that fly?

Did Queen Maeve see a land so fair?

Did Deirdre curse a love so rare and leave without a single prayer?

Did they mark the cosmos with their grins?

Did they pave the way for the love of sins?

Did they speak to me in my silent state?

Did Brigit touch my face of hate?

Did Saoirse free my ragged soul?

Did Mary Magdalene’s kiss console?

To a love of a country so far away, I dream of you all on this early new day,

And watch my eyes in the mirror back,

Holding tears of Hysteriac,

Living a life of spiraled seams,

Capturing bruises and loving dreams,

Bleeding builds inside my womb as the Goddess pipes a smoky tune,

My Cloak spreads out across the view and washes the land to a state of true,

Standing off the tyranny of hate,

that our people have suffered at a millennia rate.”

Nauseating wonder and bliss left without

“Is there a love that arrives out of doubt?”

A belly of butterflies swarm the waves,

Ducking and diving in her ovarian caves,

Splashing a sound that kisses the ear,

Falling far and breaking near,

 Jesus smiles

And Odin winks,

Buddha folds a heady nod

as Allah waves, he’s on his tod.

“I sniff a candle, and return to the light,

from out of this dream the arrow points me to sight,

And I open the lids of my precious blue eyes…

Yes this life I am living is truly a surprise.”