Saturday, June 14, 2014

Loreena McKennitt - Dante's Prayer


(Lyrics and music by Loreena McKennitt)

"Dante's Prayer"

When the dark wood fell before me
And all the paths were overgrown
When the priests of pride say there is no other way
I tilled the sorrows of stone

I did not believe because I could not see
Though you came to me in the night
When the dawn seemed forever lost
You showed me your love in the light of the stars

Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me

Then the mountain rose before me
By the deep well of desire
From the fountain of forgiveness
Beyond the ice and fire

Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me

Though we share this humble path, alone
How fragile is the heart
Oh give these clay feet wings to fly
To touch the face of the stars

Breathe life into this feeble heart
Lift this mortal veil of fear
Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears
We'll rise above these earthly cares

Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me
Please remember me


December 18, 1995, Trans-Siberian Railway: Dante’s The Divine Comedy keeps running through my mind as I gaze out at the landscape passing before me, thinking of the people who inhabit it and how they share this human condition… Are we helping or hurting each other?… How has the West come to this place of transition? Honourably? What are we bringing them? What are their expectations? Are our lives really what they imagine? We always want to believe there is a place better than our own…

--Loreena McKennitt

Wednesday, June 11, 2014



At times, a song, or a dream requires a quiet listening space, otherwise it cannot be heard.

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Shadow Dance



Summer is melting the roof of the world,
Where a lonely gray sea breaks its back.
Time is scented by poplars and lilac-blossoms.
Peering into a star-flower, the sun forgets to set.

During a circuit around the park, my eyes linger
On the ridge-line of the Chugach Mountains,
Blinking into a heart awash with elation,
Argent eclipse of a life's tear-filled cistern.

A three-year-old girl lifts her arms, and turns,
Twirling just ahead of her own silhouette.
Am I rewriting, or living backwards?
Between her shadow and mine, a secret stirs.







Sunday, June 08, 2014

arboreal rambles

bog cranberry

twinflower (linnea)

dwarf dogwood



starflower


classic twinflower

wild rose




pungent Labrador tea




bluebells

at the edge of the mountain, listening to the trees

All through the morning, the gilded glimmer of the light on the quivering aspens was visible through my window. I could hear the singing of these leaves, even without my ears. The birches answered the wind with a softer whisper, cushioned by the tender fur that appears on their mature, heart-shaped leaves. I was surrounded by my sisters, deeply comforted.

My darlings were stirring more and more as the day drew on: garlands of birch-leaves, lifted by the breeze as if long, curly locks, caressed by an unseen hand. Dark-green alder leaves chattered excitedly with the smaller willow-leaves. Spruce branches waved mildly at the ruckus of the rest: muttering, we've been green all winter, ladies, it's about time you arrived at the party. But on the very tippy-tips of the spruce trees appeared soft, vulnerable new-green growths, giving the spruces a chance to look down at their branches fondly, and notice their fancy new manicures.  Ah, what a giddy, joyous day in these woods!

On the next day, a sense of quiet hesitation. A covering of clouds descended, and the wind ceased, for the most part. A vague murmuring in the branches: a question. A signal of coming change.

A delicate perennial survived the harsh Northern winter, and has begun blooming in my rock-garden: a bleeding-heart.

Alas, alas, it cries. There is so much sorrow every-where. And yet, and yet..........we are alive.




Emerald

I let you go, but you remain where devotion lingers with leaf-curtains drawn; and dreams gather in pools of verdigris; where c...

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