“A Willow Bends” by Christina Knowles

windinthewillows

“A Willow Bends”

A willow bends to the wind.

In approbation, she attends,

pledging fealty to the goddess.

The goddess waxing great, her promise.

An accomplice, sacrosanct yet equal,

she presides. Congenial,

she pulls the tide.

Bursting wide,

streams spill,

worshipping still

with their liquid hands,

sculpting stones

and building thrones

and shaping earth,

growing shallow for rebirth.

Cracked and dried beauty,

the brittle earth, ripe to be

encompassed in fire.

The elements conspire,

bringing the seedling forth anew.

Draped in the morning dew,

the seedling willow weeps

in joy, breathing deep

the ether of the stars,

and growing aging scars,

the willow reaches to her goddess,

the promise of her solace.

Then slowly the willow bends

in acquiescence to the wind.

–Christina Knowles

“The Broken Become Wise” by Christina Knowles

Pagan symbol

“The Broken Become Wise”

Images of the long forgotten

Dance across closed eyes

A smoldering cauldron of misbegotten

Tries; faltering, I surmise

Too late the uncommon

Value of dark and stormy skies

The knowledge of the sodden

Soul; the broken become wise

Straining, I see through the mist of fear

The wisdom of the ancient Druid

Seer; her smile is cavalier

My dread is transmuted

Bravely, I appear

Sorrow, as a weed uprooted

Destiny—no mere

List so easily permuted

I, alone, discern

The path of the Ancients

The Celtic sojourn learn

Deafened to mendacious

Guides, I finally adjourn

Rumination’s patience

Prophetic dreams return

Asleep, the mind sagacious

Awakened, my pilgrimage is clear

Avoiding the spiritually reputed

Secluded, I pioneer

The skeptic, conduits refuted

Divining the allelic, finally truth is near

Facts undisputed

Though the Romantic’s quest’s sincere

Morosely, true believers brooded

Still, images of the long forgotten rise

But the broken become wise

And healed, the myth, decries.

—Christina Knowles

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