Monday, October 30, 2017

POETRY FOR SAMHAIN

The poet at Samhain
Samhain is the old Celtic name for All Hallows’ Eve, October 31st




















Dragon of my self-admiration,
the time for roaring is over.
Come with me to winter’s cave.



















If you wish, I will whisper, down
the tunnel of your hoary ear,
praise for your lavender
and bottle-green scales, 
the gyrations of your
your whipping tongue --
but you must be still.

Tame your breath, warm the small
wood creatures below the hawthorn;
observe robins courting the holly tree,
eager for red fruit to soften, mature.

























Marvel while snowflakes float
and whirl, tumble from invisible 
nets in a cobalt sky.

Listen while children sing
in bright, piping voices.

Watch as the light from
their candles threads, winking,
through the groves at midnight.







All of this will happen without you:

The trees, brown sticks in the snow,
will worship the icy silence.





The branch’s trickling song will persevere
beneath silvery panes.











Emerald mosses, soft and wet,
will cling to granite and quartz, 
spread fingers through
furrows in the damp
bark of the leaning oak
who guards the spring.







Poetry by Cathy Larson Sky from her chapbook Blue egg, my heart (Finishing Line Press, 2014) 
Paintings by the famous Sulamith Wulfing
Photos by Cathy Larson Sky, from the family land in Spruce Pine, NC.