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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
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
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Re: Lady
Tue, August 5, 2008 - 6:43 AMthis is really beautiful Thanks for posting it Julie
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Re: Lady
Tue, August 5, 2008 - 12:13 PMThat was truely beautiful! May I copy this? -
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Re: Lady
Sun, August 10, 2008 - 4:42 PMyes 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.
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Re: Lady
Mon, August 25, 2008 - 11:36 AMGoodness.
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.