#devotional poetry
Passio Discerpta XVII. “Monumenta aperta” – George Herbert (1593-1633)
While, My Life, you were dying,
The buried dead themselves arose,
And in exchange for one man bound
The throng was set free.
But you do not so much die for yourself
As live in them, and Death,
Now given breath, lays claim to your life.
By all means, go and seek
The Crucified among the tombs – he lives!
Many sepulchers overmaster
A single Cross. Thus, it is fitting
That God, in accord with His Majesty,
Should not lose the life
He bestowed, but multiply it.
Dum moreris, Mea Vita, ipsi vixere sepulti,
Proque uno vincto turba soluta fuit.
Tu tamen, haud tibi tam moreris, quam vivis in illis,
Asserit et vitam Mors animata tuam.
Scilicet in tumulis Crucifixum quaerite, vivit:
Convincunt unam multa sepulcra Crucem.
Sic, pro Maiestate, Deum, non perdere vitam
Quam tribuit, verum multiplicare decet.
The Dead Appear in the Temple, James Tissot, between 1886 and 1894
“Easter-Wings” – George Herbert (1593-1633)
Lord, who createdst man in wealth and store,
Though foolishly he lost the same,
Decaying more and more,
Till he became
Most poore:
With thee
O let me rise
As larks, harmoniously,
And sing this day thy victories:
Then shall the fall further the flight in me.
My tender age in sorrow did beginne
And still with sicknesses and shame.
Thou didst so punish sinne,
That I became
Most thinne.
With thee
Let me combine,
And feel thy victorie:
For, if I imp my wing on thine,
Affliction shall advance the flight in me.
The Resurrection of Christ, Juan Correa de Vivar (1510-1566)
Hermes Aglaos, of you I sing to my heart’s endless delight!
you, the brightest star in the galaxies,
above all the loveliest in my eyes
to you I gaze upon through the darkest nights
and the tenderest of dawnsHermes Aglaos, silver-tongued and quick-witted,
with your sweet words, joy is forever in my heart
with your company, I dance with you ever graciously
your hands in minewith you, I open up to the world
with you, I shall reach the starsbrightest one in my heart
I shall be the starlight
and you, the endless night sky.
i keep thinking about an event or something for polytheists focused on writingmyth retellings.
if its something specific itd be like a “MythReWriMo” (along the lines of a “Myth-Retelling Writing Month” or anything with less of a silly name fkdkdkd)
and maybe even something more non-specific? like not a month-long thing, but a more general event for coming up with retellings.
or better yet !! modern myths!!narratives or poetry
(with monthly or weekly prompts perhaps, maybe focusing on different deities depending on the time?)
i just feel like itd be so cool to have a little community interacting with our own versions of the known stories, and also with modern mythos, new stories, with the gods interacting with new domains that are a part of modern worship and cultus….
idk, something to think about maybe?
Devotional poem for Artemis
Barefoot you amble through wilds
Well-crowned with mists of the evergreen.
Flowers raise their petals in joy as you pass.
Beasts bow their heads in humility.
“Our Lady has come!”
Announce the birds chirping proudly.
“She’s come!”
Accompany the whispers of the treetops
And the rustle of the woods chants your holy name.
Threshold (to Brighid, on Brighid’s Day 2022)
Just as everything to be born carried and conceived in darkness–
To some ancestors, the beginning was a dusk, not dawn.
Time reset as the sun faded, as sleep approached
The eye of the world shut, that we may better see our dreams–
Her hand, over the candle, that I may have light to read.
My eyelids twitch in sleep, shields against a night’s cold
That breaks with the dawn, tracing the horizon line,
A border of snow, from where the crocuses poke their heads.
(Written 1 February 2022. Do not reblog without crediting me as the creator.)
Banshee
When her voice howls at me through the night’s long ache,
or early morning’s sharp and barest light, or closes on my gut
at the end of a long and unsatisfying day, I hear.
And I know it not just for the sharp spindle of fate but
the high roar of inspiration, poetry, smashing
aside weakness and comfort for the utter magic of reality.
Crumbling away my greed for the fear I finally know it to be,
sediment of a thousand minor injustices, Brighid
points the finger of destiny, bright as a sunbeam;
The walls of my heart shatter with prophecy:
You will see injustice.
You must set it right.
You will live.
You will live.
You will live.
(Written 31 January 2022. Do not reblog without crediting me as the author.)
Stirring
Three cauldrons, is what my patchwork research shows me,
A shining thread of early wisdom, warped to modern tongues
By ears more clever and subtle then my own.
Amateur as I am, I suspect, even as I try to curl my hands
Around the warmth of the Cauldron of Vocation, it tips
My words splatter from a lack of discipline.
And yet, I still catch her fingers about my head,
my spine spins like a spoon that I may find how best
to pour out what she has given me–
only mine to taste, share, and not keep.
(Written 31 January 2022. Inspired by Erynn Rowan Laurie’s article “The Cauldron of Poesy,” published in Obsidian,1999. Please do not reblog without listing me as the creator.)
The arrows of Astraea
Her eye is more lofty than the clouds,
stark and a steadfast glare towards
our world, revolving in its shame.
When she bends her arms to
Strike, her fury scores a bright
Scar into the night’s memory and then
Fades to dark. Faster than the light
Striking surer than the narrow folds
of your most secret heart
Her blow finds its mark. You
are now tethered to the heavens,
your heart a magnet to her judgment.
(Written 31 January 2022. Do not reblog without crediting me as the creator.)
“Keening,” by Daniela Simina
Her gift for posterity,
the undying gift of Bride the Banfile,
power of word endowing
the pain and agony
with immortality.
Inheritance she left for
those to come.
The inheritance of spirit
passed on beyond blood.
Spear struck Ruadan
and without his blood spilled
that deep and powerful voice,
Her voice,
would never had risen.
A mother’s grief birthed lamentation,
sacred union of word and sound
wedded by pain to never part again.
Him, left dead, her left alive,
her left to live forever in the heart of each of us
knowingly or unknowingly,
each time someone is keening.
Her gift for posterity,
the undying gift of Bride the Banfile:
the visceral yell erupting from
the soul sliced open,
the soul of a mother
cradling her dead child,
and nevertheless
make that a gift,
a step into immortality.
(Text from the devotional poetry blog Stone on the Belly)
keep your holy silence while the forest
stirs around you, wind making the trees
speak like soft sighs from wooden mouths.
a flash at the edge of vision, the huntress
stalks you, pulls a sunbeam down to
knock on her bowstring, sights your heart
your roaring pulse, oh huntress…
strike me down.
-30.4.20 [to artemis]
“Dream while you rest;
Dream after you wake.
Never stop dreaming,
Not matter how hard
This life gets to be.
Breathe life into your dreams
And never stop tending
To each one of their needs.
Love them like children,
Mold them like creations.
You may not get to
Live out all of them,
But that should not sway you.
These dreams of yours
Are as beautiful as you.As I cradle you in my arms,
Watching over you as you sleep,
I find joy in your dreams
And all that they mean.
So keep on dreaming,
Never stop believing,
For one day those dreams
Will give your life meaning.”
“You must be the friend
That Hermes told me about.
The darkness that surrounds you
Is as he described,
Incredibly thick and powerful.
You are practically drowning in it!
I can see how it has
Stolen the air from your lungs!“All that you have seen
And all that you have experienced…
Little one, you sure are resilient!
That mind of yours
Is stronger than you think!
We have much to discuss,
But first, grab hold.
I won’t let you drown anymore!”The voice that speaks to you
Is powerful, yet melodic;
And that hand that reaches for you
Is gloriously sun-kissed
With the calloused fingers
Of a talented musician.
You trust in the voice
And accept His hand.“Helios, my friend,
Please send this poor soul
A glorious ray of light!”
And suddenly you see the sun,
Feel the warmth on your skin.
It is new and refreshing.
You drink it in
As you are pulled upward.Then there is more light,
Brilliant and colorful.
The darkness dissipates
Beneath your feet,
Hissing and snarling
As it cowers away.
You feel lighter and, finally,
You can take in a breath.“There! Look at you!
I can see the color
Returning to your cheeks.
How does it feel, young one,
To breathe in fresh air?
To see the sun after so long?
You have so many more
Beautiful things to experience!”He takes a seat and gestures
For you to sit beside Him.
“Lately, things have been
Particularly difficult for you.
Hermes has shared your struggles
And I sympathize, I do.
I have seen many mortals
Struggle and fall."Hermes says that you
Once had an incredible
Passion for the arts…
But you’ve forgotten how to smile
And you no longer sing or dance.
That, my mortal friend,
Breaks my heart
And I feel compelled to help you."Whatever you are carrying,
I know it must be heavy.
But please, dear one,
Share that weight with me.
Whatever you are holding on to,
Tell it to me here
And I will help you
Let go of it for good."I know you feel alone,
But there are many people,
Divine and mortal,
Who are willing to help you.
Keeping this to yourself
Will only make things worse.
The darkness will keep coming back
If you try to face it alone."You deserve to smile and dance,
To laugh and sing again!
I want to see the passion
Return to your beautiful eyes.
I want to see you breathe
This fresh air every day,
No longer trapped in the darkness,
But happily walking under the Sun."Every day will not be grand
You will still have struggles,
But you won’t be weighed down
By all the hardships of your past.
If you accept my help,
I will make sure you can handle
Any obstacle that gets in your way
And help you overcome it."Will you let me reignite your passion
And help you face the darkness
That has consumed you for so long?
Will you let me strum my lyre
And sing of your victory
When you finally overcome your past?
You’ve got nothing to lose
And so much to gain!"I know this is a leap of faith
But you trusted me enough
To take my hand the first time.
The path ahead won’t be easy,
I will make you work hard,
But you will not be alone.
So what do you say, my friend,
Will you walk with me?”
epidaurian asklepios, syringe-bearing,
who through sleep and time performs
every miracle of restoration, lord healer
who with swift hand guides every needle
and venomous fang, companion to
glowing health and soft relief, oh divine
physician, i ask your aid, your kindness
boundless, overflowing, unshakable,
prop me up stalwart against light-headed
darkness and feverish, bloody weakness,
dear friend to the ailing, attend my entreaty
-25.5.21 [to asklepios of phlebotomy]
oh saffron dawn, happy auos-amera,
what light you carry is sweet as honey,
thin as mountain air, cast down like
shards of amber rain, i raise my face to
touch, my hands to interlock with your
rosy fingers, wake me, goddess, raise me
up among the treetops so i may be first
each day to see your coming, golden,
distant from every pain of later hours
-25.5.21 [to auos-amera]
Keep the Faith.
Whisper the mantras to yourself,
When you wake up in the dawning hours,
Your face wet with dreams,
Muffle your pleas with the pillow:
“Hope, hope, hope”
“…please, please, please.”
Once, when I was bold,
And spoke in decrees and thunderclaps,
Shook the earth with my need.
When I burned with almighty fire
Crossed boiling, broiling seas,
When I changed the course of fated time,
And chose what was to be
I want to weep with the glory of it all
I want to weep,
At their faces, in the stars
Among the trees,
Pressed deep into the surface of my life,
Running through it -
