Upon each tree hung with light,
cosmic fruits of love sway
beneath psyche’s soulful stars.
Over hill and silent shining lake,
a midnight journey of wonder
lights up this imaginal world.
Where stone, wood and water
naturally release reveries
to trees, who push their roots
down into swaddled dreamers,
offering the glow of intuition
and transformational symbols.
While I do not come consciously,
the ground is real and stillness
will always bring me here,
to a land older than the oceans.
Inside this pregnant darkness
I cross over to the thin place,
searching for healing wisdom
within its enchanted forests,
until mountains gather around
and a stag steps out of the mist.
Knowing this landscape was here
long before my poetry began.
Awake within my star, I drift
towards the mountains of soul,
walking further into myself,
into infinite space, vast and open
yet strange and shrouded
from my mortal-bound life.
Here I assume my spirit form,
seeking a reconciling symbol,
as I sit and listen to silence,
until I can no longer hear it.
The focal point is everywhere,
for as far as I look out, I look in.
Let me kneel and kiss this earth,
let me dance in its radiance.
Lift me up to the raven’s nest,
where I may bear silent witness
and fling my arms wide open
to the wildness of highlands.
While first light is suspended,
I find myself deeply rooted here,
a sacred feather caught
between the Shaman’s toes,
belonging only to psyche’s
poetic landscape of the soul.
Copyright © Deborah Gregory 2018