an opening _ june 29, 2017 thompson alexander bishop
I let the light warm me
an eastern plain, moving
to begin
as if
all that was
began again
phoenix
morning
tide of being
laid bare upon the rocks
a mooring wind
that Willow knows
songs dancing in the light
seeking.
for we that sit upon these breaks
shadows come
stone the course
and patient alms
"i strive to clean the mirror me."
forts that shift
the moment held
ease with loss
these pregnant velds
aghast in was
and other den
no fear no to
look
within
these our moments
our moments of people
embodying the reaches
or our inner teachers
we force no hand
in our dealings with her dragon
ragged and free
hungered and still
awaken with tamed lashings of our
great gifts and purpose
breathing on gold
breathe. breathe...
but not old,
the child and dragon sewn
find the sacred home.
fire dancer, our radiant spring
and angel maker, our turtled hawk
the wild crafter, who nettle named
and a scottish witch, saayphourkaalemiino
she-who's-found-her-seat
and shield's-lay-down
adventure's ready, for renewal they go
a water's field, a living ember
and song-water, the fire saint
a North man, the whispering sage
and a raven's rise, Wild Dharma
we -- who this place
have come to know
hero's journey
& inner foe --
are
& I a fort
a letter
word -- (tbird)
singing to these after-ed verbs
a task.
to shift from I to we
the story's interweaving
we cultivate this space
for all people
leaves
the water
a soothing rain
of all earth orders
we are
same
shy & slight
but quaking in
forests of echos
these blackest nights
A white north moment
decision is clear
setting a light east,
"be soft,
know fear."
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