Three "Portrait" Poems

[Rider/Waite/Smith Tarot]


It occurred to me yesterday that this blog is the perfect place to share poems of mine that would otherwise languish in my files. The three "portrait" poems below are highly embellished and positive caricatures about friends as a god or goddess. They were written as gifts and are sixteen years old. A good age to "come out."

Although these poems do not require any knowledge of the people they were written for, they also do not reference any particular historical God/dess. This makes them simply a snapshot of my imagination’s process at that long-ago time. I leave it up to you to determine whether they have any resonance today. I share them because I still enjoy reading them. :-)

PORTRAIT OF "M" AS GODDESS OF ABUNDANCE
(a Winter Solstice gift, 1990)

The Lady returns to Her forest home,
bearing nuts and seeds, flowers, roots
and berries in Her baskets of reed,
Her cape of leaves trailing
lightly behind her.

Small creatures leap and scurry
around Her as She glides,
as if to celebrate
the abundance She shares.

A chipmunk rides the hem
of Her cape, falls off
and clambers back, chattering
at birds circling
and singing above.

Silence descends as The Lady settles
on a bed of leaves and pine needles
before an ancient oak.

A mother lion strides lazily
forward through the gathering
of forest creatures, stretches
and curls at Her feet.

The Lady bends to stroke
Her golden beast, a shaft
of light dancing
in Her dark, dark, hair.

* * * *

PORTRAIT OF "L" AS GODDESS OF THE HUNT
(a birthday gift, 1990)

The Lady lightly holds the reins
of Her golden chariot,
as it glides across the skies
and oceans, and rumbles
on the earth.

Wild and wondrous beasts, ridden
by singing children pull
her wheeling throne.

Their colors of russet and green,
silver, cerulean, and brown
echo in her wind-blown gown.
Dare a question as she approaches
and listen closely for Her answer.

For it may come in Her commanding
tongue, be roared from throat
of beast, or sung by vulnerable child,
but always it will open doorways
onto long-forgotten landscapes
or undiscovered dreams.

Long after passing through,
Her kaleidoscopic quest
will whirl in your heart:
no rest, no holding back,
only the hunt for truth.

* * * *

PORTRAIT OF "G" AS GOD OF THE GROVES
(a Winter Solstice gift, 1990)

When you happen upon The Lord’s grove,
leave the ordinary outside,
let time become a memory.

All here thrives on touch and space:
feel the jeweled hide of the snake
brush your bare thigh,
whispering "Play with me,"
or simply "Here I am;"
sense the trees honoring you,
filling the air with the breath
of their glorious growing.

Wait patiently by the central
shining ash tree and The Lord will appear,
draped in rainbows of serpents,
with herbs and flowers in His
wild silver hair.

Let Him wind his wisdom
through your mind, insinuating
nurture as balm for hurt,
and humor where darkness lies.

And when you leave, if you are lucky,
He will show you the cosmos
spinning surely in the palm
of His hand.

As the grove slowly fades and time
and the ordinary return, listen closely:
the trumpeting horn you hear
will be He, calling
for His handsome lover.

* * * *

Resource: Mything Links: An Annotated & Illustrated Collection of Worldwide Links to Mythologies, Fairy Tales & Folklore, Sacred Arts & Sacred Traditions.

‘til next time, keep dreaming,

Roswila
[aka: Patricia Kelly]
* * * *If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under "View my complete profile")
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