poetry

Memories of the Forestials

English

In the silence of the night,

Our tired eyes burn bright,

How hard it is for you and me

To make the world what it used to be.

 

Ringing rivers by the woods,

Sighing forests by the lakes,

Humans haven’t understood,

Burning life in their mistakes.

 

Native caves are cooling down,

Losing order, comfort, charm,

And new minds in crowded towns

Forge their chains, to our alarm.

 

No more wild and fearsome packs,

All nocturnal shrines are gone,

Alien deathland giving cracks,

Lifeless strongholds save no one.

 

But in darkness of my heart,

Burning fire is still alive.

My night is mixing up with light,

My day with starry blackness rife.

 

While I’m staying here with you,

Shimmering of stars will reach,

And between times, old and new,

I will build a sturdy bridge.

 

Decorate this world I will

With a pinch of years gone by,

So that friends remember still

What they’ve promised me and why.

 

I will mark the path of truth,

And I’ll spread my leather wings,

We can’t bring back our world,

So the new one’s to begin.

Russian

Вспоминания Лесных

Горят в тиши ночной

Усталые глаза.

Как трудно нам с тобой

Вернуть наш мир назад…

 

Теперь звенящих рек

И леса у озёр

Не любит человек,

Бросая жизнь в костёр.

 

Остыл родных пещер

Порядок и уют,

А новые умы

Оковы нам куют.

 

Нет больше диких стай,

И нет ночных святынь.

Чужим стал этот край

Безжизненных твердынь.

 

Но в сердце у меня

Ещё горит огонь –

Смешенье ночи дня

И светлости ночной.

 

И вот пока я здесь –

Не стихнет трепет звёзд,

А между всех времён

Сооружу я мост.

 

Украшу этот мир

Щепоткой прошлых лет,

Чтоб добрые друзья

Хранили свой обет.

 

Намечу верный Путь,

И крылья распахну –

Тот мир нам не вернуть,

Сначала я начну.

What’s Changed?

Originally posted to the WanderingPaths mailing list on April 8, 2011. This was written as a poetic focus used as part of a Calling to the spirit the otherkin community once had.

Do you remember those days, 
 so dear now they've gone, 
 when kin were like a family 
 and not so withdrawn? 
 And we didn't all agree, 
 we didn't all get along, 
 we squabbled, we fought, 
 but we kept going strong. 

There were glades of fae and satyrs, 
 who'd beckon you come in, 
 pixies who growled, while 
 dragons smiled and grinned. 
 What's changed over time, 
 and what's been the cost? 
 What have we gained, 
 and what have we lost? 

Lists weren't abandoned, 
 or deleted outright. 
 Folks didn't stop talking 
 over one little fight. 
 New kin weren't dissected, 
 like lab specimens, 
 to see if they're trolling or 
 if they're genuine. 

There were glades of fae and satyrs, 
 who'd beckon you come in, 
 pixies who growled, while 
 dragons smiled and grinned. 
 What's changed over time, 
 and what's been the cost? 
 What have we gained, 
 and what have we lost? 

Where are the satyrs, 
 space-elves and sidhe? 
 Brrrnn, multiples, 
 hosts and Tuatha DD? 
 And the cloak-winged dragons 
 who danced on the wind? 
 Do you think we'll 
 ever see them again? 

There were glades of fae and satyrs, 
 who'd beckon you come in, 
 pixies who growled, while 
 dragons smiled and grinned. 
 What's changed over time, 
 and what's been the cost? 
 What have we gained, 
 and what have we lost?

Silent Voices Calling

The poetic focus of a Calling to others like ourselves.
Originally published on February 1, 2005 on http://wanderingpaths.heliwood.org

By oak and ash and rowan tree
The ancient magic calls to thee
Who are kith and kin to we
By blood and spirit called to me.

By alder, elm and yew
Our community to renew
Healing it and growing too.
By flesh and bone and sinew

By land and sea and sky
Let our true kindred hear my cry
All that walk or swim or fly
Family can never die.

Feel the call of Dream, my friends
Feel the Song that never ends
Beneath the Tree that never bends
Feel the Song that never ends
Feel the call of Dream, my friends

Family can never die
All that walk or swim or fly
Let our true kindred hear my cry
By land and sea and sky.

By flesh and bone and sinew
Healing it and growing too
Our community to renew
By alder, elm, and yew.

By blood and spirit called to me
Who are kith and kin to we
The ancient magic calls to thee
By oak and ash and rowan tree.

Hearth welcome

A hearth for those of mythic heart
Fae-born, Elf-souled, from Otherworld,
Of dragons’ power, angels’ grace,
Chimaeric beasts of eld,
Shifting folk of fur and tail,
Spirits of the living Green,
Of shadows or celestial light,
Tribe of Danu, Aes Sidhe–

A hearth:
For those who walk ‘midst humankind
Oft times unseen, sometimes ill used,
Who know they are of Other kind;
And for such friends as they may choose–

A hearth:
Where may enchanted mead be drunk
In sparkling light of Under-Hill
And peace beneath the stars be found
For those who enter with good will.

Shine forth the ancient Dreaming of the Earth!
Be lit the hearth!