The Sibylline Order Sibylline Classes Poetry, Prose, and Thought Magical Studies Essays, Papers, and Reference Material Chat forums Private Students Area Private Members Area
See footer for text navigation The Sibylline Order Poetry, Prose, and Thought Rituals Astrology, Herbalism, Kabbalah, Meditation Reviews, History, Psychology Private Students Area Private Members Area Voices
Feasts of Fire and Air Poetry by Virginia Stewart
2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 | section index

Beltain Vision
(to Emerald)

A spear of fire and ice pierced my heart
and it is torn from my body.
Time itself has vanished
and all the folk
and all the cities of men are no more.
I stand alone in the stillness of space,
hearing only her voice whispering,
Craving only her touch,
knowing that a single caress of her fingertip
has shattered me forever.

The wind moves in her hair
and it twines about the breezes
like a river of copper dancing in the summer.
Her spirit is the white flame through the crystal of her skin.

I am haunted by eyes of clear jade and gold,
that see into my deepest dreams and
shear away the shrouds
that wrapped my soul in comforting darkness.

Oh, to breathe no more unless it be her breath.

I built my castle on the sands of loneliness,
and it has fallen.
The tides of her oceans have stormed the citadel of myself
and have washed away the battlements.
My palace of isolation, all of cold marble
and mirrored mourning is razed to the ground.
Where once the songs of war were sung,
and feasts of victory served with bitter wine,
There is only the music of the sea
and the cry of the white birds,
her messengers.
I am alone on her island of softly singing willows,
and her Dryads beckon me to come
and dive deep into the lake of her fire.
Her emerald lake so cool
and filled with the waters of her life.

I am held in the prison of her embraces,
and freedom is a vanquished nightmare.
I am exalted and damned.
For I can not hold her always in the night's stillness
under the blaze of stars.

Goddess, I wander in the gray twilight,
and I shall be waiting for you
by the murmuring river of our desire.
At moonrise will I search for you,
longing, and then longing for your kisses.





about us | classes | rituals | pagan voices | meditations | magical studies | library | sacred texts
site map | students | initiates

All rights reserved unless otherwise stated. Permission required for reproduction. Copyright 2006.
Send comments or questions to the webmistress. Blessings on your journey. Last Updated: