She Is

There is a real world; 

there is a magical world, too. 

Sometimes we forget the magical one, 

struggling too hard 

in the painful, dirty, bloody real one.  

But the magic is here, and 

She is here, too, 

Our Nightmare Mistress, Life in Death.

www.hannahboeving.com
artist

Sometimes she reaches down and touches,
Be still and sense 

just the slightest grace.  

The gold of autumn against blue sky, 

spring green -- poignant, aching. 

                           Heavy languid summer,                          
leaves, bliss in whisper of air.

White frozen lake of winter, 
crystal glitter bubbles riming the edge
so the fallen fool can contemplate 
the looking glass, gazing into glacier.

In each season 

She whispers a syllable in the ear, 

sprouts a mushroom, 

sings a bird ,

offers a single, starburst wildflower, 

tosses a stone from nowhere 

to ripple the pond.  

That's a

life worth living.  

The ghosts I've seen 

near bodies dancing,
 heart's pumping blood spilled
on sandy shores.

I've blessed you, chorusing cicada, 

geese exulting through a torn sky.

Moonlight, starlight, 
wind and rain and stinging snow. 

I've seen the Aten,

 clamoring hands reaching 

from below the horizon,

my eyes 

swimming in seawater,
heard souls at the gate 

of that incandescent chantry...

Juliet Waldron

See all my historical novels @

http://julietwaldron.com/books.htm

Element of Fire

I wait for sunrise

Beneath the white oak.

Dew bejewels young corn,

Static pillars of fog arise

In the valley.

Morning stars fade.

Birds wake in the prescient glow.

Twilight sublimates into blue,

Ending the unfixed time.

For years I have come to bear witness,

But only in this year of heart-break

Does the full glory greet me.

Now, through a door of silence

Steps Sun,

First, a crescent of fire.

Serpentine arms flourish and glitter,

Reaching from  the horizon

To warm my heart.

I am

No longer solitary, but

Among a rejoicing multitude
In an infinite well of space and time.

A billion souls,

And mine...

Past and Present,
Quick and Dead,
All One, incandescent,
On the altar

Of Sunrise.

~~ Juliet Waldron

Solstice, Connecticut, 1975

 

 

 

 

I await sunrise

Beneath a ancient oak

Beside a well-traveled road

Bedewed cornstalks,

Static pillars of fog in distant valleys.

 

At first there were morning stars,

Bird songs and a prescient glow,

Iridescence changed to blue

As the unfixed time ended.

 

Sun! Sun! Sun!

 

For years I have risen early on the longest day,

But only in this year of heart-break stone

Have you favored me.

Now, through a

Door of silence

A circle of fire, those

Hands glittering gold

Finger my heart.

 

I Live! I See You Rise!

 

Eternity joined,

With all those Others,

A thousand songs, a thousand years,

One humble soul ablaze,

An altar

At Sunrise.

 

 

~~ Juliet Waldron

Historical Novels