after the rain

photo by david j nightingale

summer rusting down to fall

where spring breathed frosty green

but a moment gone

once ice sharp emerald

tending towards russet now

dried seed-heads offering summer’s richness

back to the mother of all
for winter's Keeping

this cathedral has no walls

these hymns, no words

prayers inchoate formed

from language remembered from the womb

all Knowings outside any realm inhabited

since before the Wall

before the impenetrable curtain

of possibilities

fell around the singular self

defining space and time

and in defining

limiting

in the first morning light

last night’s downpour is captured
shimmering

in the cups of leaves and blossoms

hollows of stone

ephemeral promise that this day is new

pathways unexplored open

lead the traveller soul

into sudden mysteries of sun and shadow

and my place on this wheel a blip

in all of Time

but the Breath

ah! the Breath!

there is nothing that can still

heaven’s wind

the Word made flesh

dwells always among us

songs and stories plucked from the Divine Unconscious

and spilled into the minds the hearts

the dancing feet

of those who wait for god

© 2011 pamela twining

pilgrim heart

Love 

your name is Love

and i have sought you

in all the rooms and corners of my soul

down the long corridors of Days

in dreams and nightmares

when memories are not enough

i look to heaven

i know your name

your name is Love

through my most grievous fault

my soul was severed from completeness

a moment’s lack of Trust

consequences reverberate through Time

i raised my lamp high

the better to see you

one drop of oil fell

burning your shoulder, startling you awake

and in that moment

knowing i was not Whole

you fled

i know your name

which you chose to hide from me

but i rebelled

claiming more than you were willing

to give me then

and so i lost you

wandering

seeking

always seeing you flickering

in my Deepest Vision

just ahead

shimmering in my Joyous sight

when i approach

a mirage

gone again

as the light waves in my eyes disband

dissolved in tears

our love was Whole

i bear the children your soul offered me

Light and Inspiration

you asked one thing of me

and i could not see

in Blindness failing not only you

but Love

i know your name

your name is Love

and when we meet again

i’ll tell you mine

© 2011 pamela twining

breaking fast

                                                                ~ for esther         

in sight of the smoke

of morning cook fires

i remember the passing of elders

from the realm of Time

the Knowing

that if we are to have them

we must see their faces in the dew

sparkling in mist-shrouded hollows

hear their voices in the Silence

marked by the musical chatter

of the creatures of the dawn

and the homely noise of the firekeepers

the makers of food

preparing to share the bounty of another day

in the meadow

the family awakens

and comes forth to feasting

awakens to the sound of the grandmothers

singing morning blessings

awakens to the communion of souls in Time

only to recognize the Timelessness

of All

the grandmothers, the grandfathers

call to us with their last breath

endlessly resonating on the wind

the breath of generations

never gone

transmuted

the family remembers how to listen

how to see

sharing fire and bread, drum and dance

refining the web

that makes from many

One

© 2011 pamela twining

photo: swapan mukherjee

today

i met you in Magic Meadow

today

and we held hands

and listened to the wind

soughing intermittently through the trees

the music of the Wild

the only sound

i walked with you in the Poet’s Walk

today

and we poured our minds

our hearts our lives

into the golden hudson valley bowl

reflecting our songs up

into the ever-magnificent

ever-changing catskill mountain skies

i waved to you from Olana

today

across that ancient river

the vast expanse that lies between us

in brilliant clarity

the air crackles with light and passion

there is no distance

in the world of love

© 2011 pamela twining

  Photo: Clouds Over Olana ~ Frederick Edwin Church

metamorphosis

lost in the verdant overgrowth

of days and weeks of rain

too beautiful

a misty sunday morning

Not to go walking in the Meadow

shed snakeskin transfiguration

stone warmed

in yesterday's heat and she reclined

writhed

slipped out of her old life

new

naked

open

scales removed from the eyes

of her soul

she is gone in Joy

to the unlit caverns of Night

shrouded deep in earth

as the rains come again

unseen Makers

spin hanging basket webs

among the grasses

their only visible captives

shards of light

winking on and off

in passing flashes of early morning sun

mountain laurel

has clothed herself in blossoms 

once again

and we shall dance here

in the firelight

under a full moon in three days time

our drums will tell our heartbeat

back into the heavens

starlight reflected

from the Mother to the Sky

transformation

is never Complete

the organic moment subsides into the gaseous

rising pure as light

light as prayer

giving the poetry of herself

into the keeping of the future

© 2011 pamela twining

tornado sky

when all the dreams take flight

one tangerine evening

racing before the wind

unknowing, uncaring

marmalade golden centers fade to dark

and the edges slice through uncreated pathways

realized visions laid waste

whirling like dervishes, smashing some lives

photo by daniel pagdon

leaving others intact

a dreadful mystery

and we have sown the wind

what shall we reap?

nightmares come and go

but dreams abide

© 2011 pamela twining

magic meadow

I

in a bowl of light

at the center of magic meadow

mountain laurel and i

exchange vows

alive in the Awesome Stillness

rushing water, birdsong and insect hum

are the enchanted voices of Spirit in the dawn

on sunday morning, too early for traffic

magic pathways are diamond-strewn

as infant green grasses raise beads of dew

glinting chips of shattered sunlight

in the early morning air

i think i must have been a pre-raphaelite

in another life

Nature stabs me to the heart

i cannot be numb

a dangerous thing

this Beauty

II

i share my poems

in the empty amphitheater

blossoming trees the only witnesses

and they applaud with silken susurration

of the breeze within the boughs

the stream laughs and sighs

in all the right places

and the songbirds tease me shrilly

with their competing liquid verses

poetry slam in the meadow

Beltane morning 5.1.11

© 2011 pamela twining

communion

it's sometimes hard to remember

when winter's cold arthritic talons will not open

when sorrow and exhaustion sap the soul

that like any seedling

it only wants the kisses of the sun

the release of the waters

from their secret winter journeys

the scent of new-turned earth upon the breeze

to bring the green nations forth

in all their richness

every shading of light and colour

nourishing the wizened spirit back

to sacred roundness

feasting on fruits now only dreams

of verdant gardens

and dreams sustain us

in a swirl of shared songs and earth's first fruits

and last

brought forth from hidden kitchens by loving hands

mindful of the Wheel of Life

turning ever turning

down to Darkness, back to Light

the rhythms of the universe echo in the laughter

in the fullness

of visions of the future shared around a fire

in the chill spring night

©2011 pamela twining