Black Crow

Black crow balances
On a gusting breeze
Floating on an air wave.
Feathers, controlling ailerons
Lift and rise
Tendrils rippling
To keep the bird aloft.

An innate symmetry.

Black crow and his environs.

Damaging gusts

Attempting disorder,
Threatening disaster,
But with a mere wing dip,
An unconscious feather ripple,
Black crow rights itself
Restoring the natural balance.

To continue the search

For those not so lucky.

October

Tousle-haired harbinger

Teasing the last remnants

From an Indian Summer.

Next years buds

Vestiges of growth

Belie the destitution

That November will bring.

Beyond, under frigid skies,

The wrecking months.

Skirling winds

Bitter, twisted tendrils

Seep through gaps

Chilling bones, until,

Desolate and alone,

They whither and snap

Like dry grass

Blast-stripped, brown

With cold and decay.

Amidst the carnage,

She walks.
Barefoot.

Autumn

In a chemical reaction

of chlorophyll degradation,
The Goddess tires of growth,
adding yellow and ochre
to smother her pallet of greens.

Oak and beech,
Ash and birch,
the foliage loses its tinge,
taking on the stark flash
of Autumn

A transition of life-giving leaves,

to a morbid crunch
and a display of unintended colour.
Yellow to reds and browns,
lacking real purpose,
creating a psychotic vista.

A promise of death,

the spectre of decay,
withdrawing the living sap;
protection against
the harsh embrace
of Winter.

In Between

Her heart lies amongst the greenery
pulsing through the filaments.

Shoots pushing up through rotting mulch

sap bursting in a lithe climb to the light.

Life through death.

A partial demise

hence to a renewal.

And in between,

during the icy clutches of Winter,
a dormant phase.

Yet she remains,

even in those mortal depths,
poised for rebirth.

Glimpsed in the seasonal berries,

crimson red,
filled with her life-blood.

Or on the Robin's breast,

while he sings of her coming.

Merrivale

Man-hewn menhir
Woman-strewn circle stone
 
Standing alone as ages pass
proud against a bleak horizon
steadfast before the deluge
stone island within a moat of tears.

Four-fold face
directional but unturning
casting a shadow
the only moving part.

Placid tranquil accepting
open wanting and fluid
the circle can be entered
from any direction.

Standing erect
looming over the cleansing circle
the shadow reaches out
but never makes contact.

Goddess? What Goddess?

Let's be clear from the start. I'm not religious and this is not a religious site.

The Goddess of the title is a euphemism for what might be termed the natural land or the turning season as manifested in the British landscape. Why such a notion might be explained by the use of an overtly religious expression will have to wait for another post, but those with a passing familiarity with Robert Graves, modern paganism or certain strands of Celticism will most likely understand how a Goddess might be translated into 'the land'.

Alternatively, you could watch John Boorman's Excalibur. Merlin - played by Nicol Williamson - talks about 'The Dragon' and takes the young Arthur on a woodland tour to explain the intricacies. In each scene where 'The Dragon' plays a part Boorman filmed with an intense green fluorescent back light. Think of 'The Dragon' as the Goddess and the green light as her manifestation and you'll have a good enough idea to getting along with.

Of course, there's another aspect in Excalibur that follows what at first might be deemed a more Christian path. Perceval travels (in his unconscious mind) to the Grail Castle, gains entry and is questioned by an disembodied voice: "What is the secret of the grail?"  To which the answer is: "You and the land are one." The 'you' in this case is Arthur, the King and the implied equation is that when the King prospers, so does the land. In a scene closely following, Arthur and his knights ride through an apple orchard accompanied by a furious rendition of Carmina Burana O Fortuna by Carl Orff.

As they pass through the trees, the apple blossom falls onto a verdant grass carpet. The King prospers - for the last time - and the land blooms.

Even though Arthur isn't around and arguably never was, the land still blooms and in places The Goddess may be seen. The purpose of this blog, as the title suggests, is to find her.