Lady

topic posted Thu, June 19, 2008 - 5:37 PM by  Moondancer
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Lady,



Sometimes in the morning

before the break of day

You whisper in my dreams...

At times the whisper is a song---

at times a memory of sadness

swiftly gone---



You whisper in my dreams...



Sometimes in the morning

while the mist lays on the hills

You dance the wild dance...

At times You dance alone and free---

at times Your siren music reaches

out to me---

You dance the wild dance...



Sometimes in the morning

while the day blooms with the sun

You live behind my eyes...

At times You bring exalted grace---

at times an unexpected vision of your face---

You live behind my eyes!



Blessed Be!

The Book Of Hours: Prayers to the Goddess

By Galen Gillotte
posted by:
Moondancer
Texas
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  • Re: Lady

    Tue, August 5, 2008 - 12:13 PM
    That was truely beautiful! May I copy this?
    • Re: Lady

      Sun, August 10, 2008 - 4:42 PM
      yes but please copy as a whole the info where the poem came from.
      I always try to give the info. when I am borrowing from a a book.
      glad you enjoyed hon.
  • Re: Lady

    Mon, August 25, 2008 - 11:36 AM
    Goodness.
    I've just read this post today...

    Another day I'm awoken by a voice
    not of dream
    not of form
    the same voice
    in different voices

    And I wonder who it is from... Especially perplexed as it happens more and more... though the voice has often culled throughout life...
    And here, in the Moonpost all is perfectly inescapably clear.

    Sweet Lady who whispers in serpents tongues
    and voices of honey-play
    and the booming honesty of shotgun's aim
    Perfect in knowledge and integrity's timing.

    Thank you, Lady,
    for your voice wakes me in the darkest hour
    whereby I move with no second thought into the twilight hours
    like hecate, dressed in vines and the deep cloak of night through this urban jungle of thieves and wolves
    and am gifted with moonshine blessings
    of the highest order
    and am showered with Desert's morning dew.

    As I returned, laden with gifts for an alter I have time to address,
    intention is set and I feel more like myself,
    i chant and nap till sunrise,
    and dream the most amazing journeys.

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