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| | The Pilgrim | |
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Romana Community Developer
Posts : 213 Join date : 2009-07-24
| Subject: The Pilgrim Sat Sep 19, 2009 7:18 pm | |
| Some friends and I just gathered today to celebrate the upcoming Fall Equinox, which brought to mind this poem, written by an acquaintance in Florida who goes by the name Charlemagne. It captures the idea of balance, associated with this time of year. The Pilgrim
In shadowed place, by shadows bound Where Shadows move, but make no sound A moment's wait brings clear to sight The borderland of Day and Night.
Upon this plain of place between, With Dawn's horizon sharp and keen, A Shadow paused on shadowed way To see the kingdom of the Day.
He found a world of many hues Unlike the oceanic blues That ruled the realm of shadows deep; The place that is the home to sleep.
The Shadow Pilgrim felt the air, Knew sights and sounds and textures fair. He heard the words the waking speak; Felt sunlight fall on Shadow cheek.
Green of forest! Tawn of grain! The sizzling scent of Summer rain. Beauty in her daylit guise Brought shadow tears to shadow eyes.
But swiftly . . . far too soon, it seems . . . Daylight gave away its dreams. With sad precision shadows know, He marked the fading sunset glow.
Then Shadow left the world so bright, Returning to the arms of Night. And never spoke a shadow word; Nor ever shadow footstep heard.
But night would never wear as old, And stars would never shine so cold. For all, he knows, has much to say; And Night's the other half of Day.
. . . In shadowed place by shadows bound, A thoughtful shadow may be found, Who casts what shadows as he might; A Shadow with a soul of Light. | |
| | | Romana Community Developer
Posts : 213 Join date : 2009-07-24
| Subject: Re: The Pilgrim Thu Sep 24, 2009 7:46 pm | |
| From Paul Revere's Ride, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow -- one of my favorite poems.
Listen my children and you shall hear Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five; Hardly a man is now alive Who remembers that famous day and year.
He said to his friend, "If the British march By land or sea from the town to-night, Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch Of the North Church tower as a signal light,-- One if by land, and two if by sea; And I on the opposite shore will be, Ready to ride and spread the alarm Through every Middlesex village and farm, For the country folk to be up and to arm."
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You know the rest. In the books you have read How the British Regulars fired and fled,--- How the farmers gave them ball for ball, From behind each fence and farmyard wall, Chasing the redcoats down the lane, Then crossing the fields to emerge again Under the trees at the turn of the road, And only pausing to fire and load.
So through the night rode Paul Revere; And so through the night went his cry of alarm To every Middlesex village and farm,--- A cry of defiance, and not of fear, A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, And a word that shall echo for evermore! For, borne on the night-wind of the Past, Through all our history, to the last, In the hour of darkness and peril and need, The people will waken and listen to hear The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed, And the midnight message of Paul Revere. | |
| | | Romana Community Developer
Posts : 213 Join date : 2009-07-24
| Subject: Re: The Pilgrim Sun Sep 27, 2009 8:40 pm | |
| From "Springing Up" by R. Kaldera
The sun blinds me as I watched you ascend to the new dawn your destiny draws you out while mine clutches at the hem of my robe, whispering whispering like dry bones rubbing together that kindle only dark fire
and I did not know how much pain would lance me seeing you run as joyfully back to her (that goddess who bore you and gave you your name) as once you had run joyfully into my arms, my hands black with the soot of a thousand cremations your hair something of sunrise and something of clay and something of waving poppy blooms
and maybe you waved back once at the threshold of dawn and maybe you did not - I will never know because the sun had blinded me or had it just been tears............ | |
| | | Romana Community Developer
Posts : 213 Join date : 2009-07-24
| Subject: Re: The Pilgrim Sun Oct 18, 2009 12:06 am | |
| Anonymous poem about Cerridwen
I give you life I give you death it is all one You travel the spiral path the eternal path that is existence ever becoming ever growing ever changing Nothing dies that is not reborn nothing is born that does not die When you come to me I welcome you home then I take you into my womb my cauldron of transformation where you are stirred and sifted blended and boiled melted and mashed reconstituted then recycled You always come back to me you always go forth renewed Death and Rebirth are but points of transition along the Eternal Path | |
| | | Romana Community Developer
Posts : 213 Join date : 2009-07-24
| Subject: Re: The Pilgrim Tue Oct 27, 2009 11:10 am | |
| Twas the Evening of Samhain - by Cather Steincamp
'Twas the evening of Samhain, and all through the place were pagans preparing the ritual space. The candles were set in the corners with care, in hopes that the Watchtowers soon would be there. We all had our robes on (as is habitual) and had just settled down and were starting our ritual when out on the porch there arose such a chorus that we went to the door, and waiting there for us were children in costumes of various kinds with visions of chocolate bright in their minds. In all of our workings, we'd almost forgot, but we had purchased candy (we'd purchased a LOT), And so, as they flocked from all over the street, they all got some chocolate or something else sweet. We didn't think twice of delaying our rite, Kids just don't have this much fun every night. For hours they came, with the time-honored schtick of giving a choice: a treat or a trick. As is proper, the parents were there for the games, Watching the children and calling their names. "On Vader, On Leia, On Dexter and DeeDee, On Xena, on Buffy, Casper and Tweety! To the block of apartments on the neighboring road; You'll get so much candy, you'll have to be TOWED!" The volume of children eventually dropped, and as it grew darker, it finally stopped. But as we prepared to return to our rite, One child more stepped out of the night. She couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen. Her hair was deep red, and her robe, forest green with a simple gold cord tying off at the waist. She'd a staff in her hand and a smile on her face. No make-up, nor mask, or accompanying kitsch, so we asked who she was; she replied "I'm a witch. And no, I don't fly through the sky on my broom; I only use that thing for cleaning my room. My magical powers aren't really that neat, but I won't threaten tricks; I'll just ask for a treat." We found it refreshing, so we gave incense cones, A candle, a crystal, a few other stones, And the rest of the candy (which might fill a van). She turned to her father (a man dressed as Pan) and laughed, "Yes, I know, Dad, it's past time for bed," and started to leave, but she first turned and said "I'm sorry for further delaying your rite. Blessed Samhain to all, and a magical night." | |
| | | Romana Community Developer
Posts : 213 Join date : 2009-07-24
| Subject: Re: The Pilgrim Mon Nov 30, 2009 8:23 pm | |
| Carol with Variations by Phyllis McGinley
"The world now has 7,600,000 men under arms, excluding navies, as against 5,000,000 in 1913." -- News item printed in The Sun, Christmas week 1936.
Oh! Little town of Bethlehem, how still we see the lie; Your flocks are folded in to sleep, and sleep your little ones. Behold, there is a Star again that climbs the eastern sky, And seven milling living men are picking up their guns.
Hark, the happy cannons roar -- Glory to the Dictator, Death and fear, and peace defiled, And a world unreconciled!
Once more the bells of Christendom ring out a proclamation Of joy to all the universe, and mercy, and good will; While brother shoots his brother down, and nation scowls at nation, And seven million uniforms are decorate at drill.
Hail to Dupont and to Krupp! Steel is strong and going up. Let the tidings glad be sent -- 'Tis the Morn of Armament.
God rest you merry, gentlemen, whose will these armies are. Go proudly in your colored shirts, let nothing you dismay. (Oh, little town of Bethlehem, how fades your shining star?) While seven milling fighting men stand up on Christmas Day.
Sing hosanna, sing Noel. Sing the gunner and the shell. Sing the candle, sing the lamp, Sing the Concentration Camp. Sing the Season born anew, Sing of exile for the Jew, Wreathe the world with evergreen. Praise the cunning submarine. Sing the barbed and bitter wire, Poison gas and liquid fire, Bullet, bomb, and hand grenade, And the hearts of men, afraid. Christ is come, the Light hath risen. All our foes are safe in prison, And the Christmastide begets Seven million bayonets.
Hear the carol once again -- Peace on earth, good will to men. | |
| | | Romana Community Developer
Posts : 213 Join date : 2009-07-24
| Subject: Re: The Pilgrim Sat Dec 05, 2009 12:25 am | |
| Fire and Ice
Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To say that for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice.
Robert Frost | |
| | | Romana Community Developer
Posts : 213 Join date : 2009-07-24
| Subject: Re: The Pilgrim Thu Jan 28, 2010 10:29 pm | |
| Remember the day I borrowed your brand new car and I dented it? I thought you'd kill me. But you didn't. And remember the time I dragged you to the beach, and you said it would rain, and it did? I thought you'd say, "I told you so." But you didn't. Do you remember the time I flirted with all the guys to make you jealous, and you were? I thought you'd leave me. But you didn't. Do you remember the time I spilled strawberry pie all over your car rug? I thought you'd hit me. But you didn't. And remember the time I forgot to tell you the dance was formal and you showed up in jeans? I thought you'd drop me. But you didn't. Yes, there were lots of things you didn't do. But you put up with me, and you loved me, and you protected me. There were lots of things I wanted to make up to you when you returned from Viet Nam ... But you didn't.
~ Author Unknown | |
| | | Mayflow Starfleet Commander
Posts : 341 Join date : 2009-05-20
| Subject: Re: The Pilgrim Fri Jan 29, 2010 5:40 am | |
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| | | Romana Community Developer
Posts : 213 Join date : 2009-07-24
| Subject: Re: The Pilgrim Sat Mar 06, 2010 10:06 pm | |
| Sing me to sleep dark angel Cradled in sweet safety’s arms Spread your wings around us Deliver to me the night skies
Sing me to sleep dark angel Under the twinkling blankets of night Whisper never-ending hymns of peace With notes as numerous as the stars
Sing me to sleep dark angel On grass as soft as the sky Brush me with silent murmurs Of fresh dew in the morning sun
Sing me to sleep dark angel With the rhythm of fresh rains Harmonious tones that create Drooping eyes and Sing me to sleep dark angel
~Erin Schober | |
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