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You have entered the realm of my mind where words play with the fabric of our existence. This is the map of my imagination: the very foundations of inspiration, musing, and thought splayed for your wandering eyes. Dive deep into the tides of these forces and experience my reality, my fantasy, my world; and if you should be so inclined, share your words with this land.

Peace and Love!

J Hart F

Sunday, January 31, 2010

What St. Patrick Did To Me

I hear your steps,
your voice whispers in
anger,
Qwo-Li, feeding and strengthening
my will, my spirit,
my pride in self.

Outside
the wind caresses,
touching my hair and skin,
Alive with the comfort form the
lonely indoors,
moving on and on,
open and free.

This Saint, invoking
Green of the living luck,
pushed the worshipers of the
Green of Life:
Snakes upon arms
raised to the
Father Stag and
Mother Moon.

Here I stand
Alone in the halls
filled with his green,
a witch
in Red
against the wall.

Inside the wind hisses,
escaping the metal
violently: move alone, move along.
You don't belong.
To whom it speaks
St. Irish? or Earthen Spirit?

I still hear, Qwo-Li,
passion in the wind, the sky
the Earth of Green.
No Cross will push me out,
beyond my land, my home, alone.

(Written 3/19/09 as a poem inspired by Qwo-Li Driskill)

1 comment:

  1. "This Saint, invoking Green of the living luck" = brilliant :)

    ReplyDelete