We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage / And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die, / We Poets of the proud old lineage / Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why ... (James Elroy Flecker)

1.9.18

The Arrival of Spring


The Arrival of Spring

for Penelope

We stood on the steps of the temple
in white tunics edged with gold.

We saw this as we worked together
reading energy, sitting on the floor
of that big room, where I used to live.

We saw lionesses prowling, 
loved and tame, in deep caverns,  
their padded feet threading 
through sand-coloured pillars.

People filled the atrium, looking up,
awaiting the High Priestess 
and the ceremony 
for the arrival of Spring. 
Young priestesses, glad and proud,
we stood at the top of the steps
either side, like twins.

                 *********

Now the candle I burn for you
sits on my Egyptian altar – 
Sekhmet one side, Thoth the other.

I have said the Prayer for the Dead,
which my friend the Hermetic Magician
taught me long ago.

(He, like others dear to me, 
died as Winter began to turn. 
And here in this country, now,
today is the first of Spring.)

As I spoke the words, I thought:
She cannot have far to go
in her journey towards God!
I thought you might merge at once,
and seemed to see that, you becoming
white light, radiant, the edges blurring
as you melt, fully absorbed
into that vaster light.


















Sharing this with the latest Tuesday Platform at 'imaginary garden with real toads'.

14 comments:

  1. We all have our special ways of honouring our dead loved ones imagining their last journey, both hoping the same, that we won't forget the other.

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  2. This is such a beautiful and touching poem, Rosemary!💞

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  3. Poignant and beautifully written. A lovely tribute to the memory and hope of what is more for a dear and beautiful friend.

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  4. Into the vaster light.. oh just the expanse of that is wonderful.. a touching remembrance.

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  5. Very loving, beautifully written.

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  6. I thought of the Greek mythological Penelope. Wrong mythology. But credible as a poem, and nice.

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  7. We honor our loved ones in different ways. Sometimes we honor them with speaking of them with love as you did in this poem

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  8. I love the ritual. Rosemary. I'm wondering if it might be a true to life or one orchestrated by 'Rosemary'? If actual, you as a poet, told it well. And if you conjured it up, it might sell.
    ..

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    1. Well, there are two rituals in the poem, one a shared 'past life' memory suggesting we had been priestesses of the lion-headed Goddess Sekhmet in ancient Egypt. We did experience that shared vision, as told, early in our friendship. Most ancient cultures did in some way honour the arrival of Spring, but there is no external evidence for what is described.

      The other ritual – lighting a candle and saying a particular prayer for the dead, which was originally given to me by another friend who was a Hermetic Magician (himself now long deceased) – was indeed an actual event, and a thing I often do when those dear to me pass, particularly if they share my spiritual path or similar. The prayer includes words about the soul's 'journey towards God'.

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  9. I love how you described the lioness and the ceremonies... what a great way to honor a lost friend... a ceremony in dreams.

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    1. I have now separated the poem into two parts, to better distinguish the remembered visionary experience we once shared from the actual ceremony I performed to honour her passing.

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  10. That is a very touching tribute (both poem and ritual) to your friend.

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