Sky Movements
Heron flying skies
of delight in my
mind’s eye.
Rippled by the
wind of imagination
It glides gracefully
In theairy air of
thought.
A glimpse of
stillness on
the move.
Changing Seasons
Autumn’s fall to Winter’s
trumpet blow in the
semi-darkness of a
dying sun.
Carried by the winds
to the round wombs
of Newgrange.
Waiting in the channel
of rebirth to touch
the sky once more.
Water-thoughts
Too late I know, but
still, I will swim
metaphysically
in the river of my
Ancestress goddess.
The pool of water
unknown to my eye.
Ripples of a life
connecting with the
myth, the river and
my mind.
