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Brushwood 2016 by Theresa Guzman
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The Equinox approaches, the bright and darkening liminal day of Balance. I thought this morning of this poem by the wonderful Scottish Bard Robin Williamson, as I also remembered so many sweet memories of Fall back east, moonlight in Vermont, fallen apples in rural New York, drinking mead with friends as we celebrated Mabon.
One of my first ritual performances was an event devoted to the Great Mother, organized by my friend Farusha, in New York City. It took place in a "black box" theatre in the East Village, but what I brought to share with the audience was a basket of apples I found lying in the green grass around an apple tree in upstate, rural New York. To see those fallen apples was the utter truth of the great Generosity of Gaia, of our Mother Earth, always given. After I finished my performance I told the story of the apples I gathered, and offered them. I expected very few of that sophisticated urban audience would take any - to my great surprise, they took every one, and ate them right there in the theatre.
There was a time when humans thought of themselves as part of the Community of life - when they negotiated with the animals and the elementals, when they listened to the voices of the trees and the medicine plants, when they thanked the buffalo for their sacrifice, when they joined in the great Song of life, a part of the chorus. We urgently must reclaim this en-chanted paradigm, and I feel Robin Williamson's beautiful poem so fully captures that vision.
With great gratitude, may the Day of Balance bring Balance into all our lives.
You that create the diversity of the forms:
One of my first ritual performances was an event devoted to the Great Mother, organized by my friend Farusha, in New York City. It took place in a "black box" theatre in the East Village, but what I brought to share with the audience was a basket of apples I found lying in the green grass around an apple tree in upstate, rural New York. To see those fallen apples was the utter truth of the great Generosity of Gaia, of our Mother Earth, always given. After I finished my performance I told the story of the apples I gathered, and offered them. I expected very few of that sophisticated urban audience would take any - to my great surprise, they took every one, and ate them right there in the theatre.
There was a time when humans thought of themselves as part of the Community of life - when they negotiated with the animals and the elementals, when they listened to the voices of the trees and the medicine plants, when they thanked the buffalo for their sacrifice, when they joined in the great Song of life, a part of the chorus. We urgently must reclaim this en-chanted paradigm, and I feel Robin Williamson's beautiful poem so fully captures that vision.
With great gratitude, may the Day of Balance bring Balance into all our lives.
You that create the diversity of the forms:
Open to my words
You that divide it and multiply it
Hear my sounds
Ancient associates and fellow wanderers
You that move the heart in fur and scale
I join with you
You that sing bright and subtle
Making shapes
that my throat cannot tell
You that harden the horn
And make quick the eye
Making shapes
that my throat cannot tell
You that harden the horn
And make quick the eye
You that run the fast fox
and the zigzag fly
You sizeless makers of the mole
And of the whale: aid me and I will aid you
and the zigzag fly
You sizeless makers of the mole
And of the whale: aid me and I will aid you
You that lift the blossom
and the green branch
You who make symmetries more true
Who dance in slower time
and the green branch
You who make symmetries more true
Who dance in slower time
Who watch the patterns
You rough coated
Who eat water
Who stretch deep and high
With your green blood
My red blood
With your green blood
My red blood
let it be mingled
Aid me and I will aid you
I call upon you
You who are unconfined
Who have no shape
Who are not seen
Who have no shape
Who are not seen
But only in your action
I will call upon you
I will call upon you
You who have no depth
But choose direction
Who bring what is willed
That you blow love
upon the summers of my loved ones
That you blow summers
upon those loves of my love
Aid me and I will aid you
That you blow love
upon the summers of my loved ones
That you blow summers
upon those loves of my love
Aid me and I will aid you
I make a pact with you
You who are the liquid
Of the waters
And the spark of the flame:
I call upon you
And guard the growth of the growing things
I make peace with you
You who are the blueness of the blue sky
And the wrath of the storm
I take the cup with you
And the wrath of the storm
I take the cup with you
Earth shakers
And with you
the sharp and the hollow hills
I make reverence to you
the sharp and the hollow hills
I make reverence to you
Round wakefulness
We call the Earth
I make wide eyes to you
You who are awake
Every created thing
both solid and sleepy
Or airy light,
I weave colors 'round you
I will consider it Beauty
I will consider it
Beauty, beauty
Published by WARLOCK MUSIC, LTD.
3 comments:
Wow! Beautiful and powerful!
How BEautiFULL Thank you.
I come to you from Grace Forest :-->
Thank you for this. Truly Beautiful.
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