Imbolc Prayer

Imbolc Prayer

As the snowdrops rise from the frozen earth
And the snow falls from the steely leaden sky
The waxing sun rises o'er the eastern snowy hills
Casting light onto a new day.
As we sit by the warming hearth
Contemplating the ancient fires of Brigit
The rising sun and the sacred flame become as one
And the Fiery Goddess of the dawn
Reaches out and touches each of us
Warming, loving, healing,
Her solar rays reaching out
Spreading across the earth
Seeking all who need the ancient
Sanctity of Her healing rays from
Deep within Her ancient well and
The sacred oak ringed spring by the eternal flame
Which lights the way to
The earth's stirring womb of creation.
Be at our side Brigit
Guide us and show us your holy light and
Lead us to your sacred sanctuary
Where we can safely and quietly contemplate
Life's strangely weaving mysteries.

Blencathra

Blencathra

Within the realm
Of lofty mountains
In the highlands of
England's romantic north
Sits the seat of kings
And deities
Soaring high above
The valleys, tarns and stones.
Linked by astronomy and
Topography to standing stones
And circular temples
The altar of gods
The seat of angels
The throne of the setting sun
The heart of the northern fells
This mountain range compressed -
Oh Blencathra!
My restful hilltop chair
Stoney cushion of the elder race
Gateway holy mountain
Hidden dimensions
To land and sky.
Abode of the fae
Amid the clouds and vapours
Of the lakeland scene
Gesturing, attracting, summoning,
The faithful attention
Of the passing travellers
Shepherds and ghostly miners
The heart of the scene
The end of the secretive journey.

The Revelation of Cernunnos

The Revelation of Cernunnos

He stands in the clearing
Standing proud
The Great God Cometh
Erectly endowed.

His great horns arise
As he looks at me
Black eyes piercing
With lustful glee.

Muscular muskiness
Penetrates round
Beneath the burning stars
Brilliant, dazzling, profound.

Arise Oh Lord
Come unto thee
In the greenwood forest
Aside the hard gnarled Oak tree.

Where ancient rites
Once performed so sensual
The Stag-God Priests
Invoking Pan-sexual.

His primeval cry
Echoes throughout the night
He has left me feeling
Full of earthly delight.

Stag-God of the Wild Wood
Come into me
My benediction within
Your secret sanctuary.

2010

2010

The full moon hangs low and large
Shining, lustrous through the bare winter branches
Late December's
Blue moon of destiny lingers
Causing much stirring from deep within
The voluminous saturated white dazzling orb
The dark silhouetted serpentine woodland limbs
Starkly still against the cool January night
Frosty underfoot penetrating
The land, frozen and hawkish
The glistening icy moonlight
Cool and clear amid the
Arcane rolling hills and
The flowing, brash torrent of the
Misty secretive river
Far below in the cleft of the steep valley.
Snow falls
Quickly and easily carpeting white
Creating a beautifully eerie moonscape,
As the clouds clear to reveal
The face of Isis
Her light dazzling as it reflects
On the sparkling diamond-like
White icy snow
The mood is still, cold and calm
We prophesise, meditate and contemplate
Amid the glowing lunar snow scape
Beneath the twinkling stars
Opulent, shining, burning
Within the bewildering remoteness of the
Spectacular remarkable Universe

Dionysus

Neo Oberon by Yuri Leitch

Dionysus

Masked and robed with vegetation
In a clearing he stands
Inspiring poet-prophets and madmen
From far-distant lands.

Deep in the forest
By the vineyard clearing,
Dancing in ecstasy
Temperature searing.

Naked at the temple
One upon one,
Metamorphosis:
Entwined eternal!

Tumultuous God Dionysus -
Revealer of dreams,
Within his theatre
All is not what it seems.

Wren

Above: Even the very small can

make a diference by Jim Kirkwood

Wren

Stealthily he enters the arena
Setting the scene
Against winter’s
Cold Banshee roar
He sings the sweetest bardic-song.

Tail flicking
He sees you
For a moment in time
You silently communicate
Before he flits away to hide!

The Drui-en secret
He calls out your name
A hidden communion
In Nature
Our special coded refrain.

(Written for Paul, 26th November 2009)

Zennor Quoit

Zennor Quoit

Between craggy hilltop

And Holy Carn
Amongst scrubby gorse
In the midst of steep rolling
Tawny moorland hills
Edged by the vast turmoil
Of the wide stormy Atlantic;
Moor and Sea
Wind and tide
Megalith and horizontal rain
Sky and earth sing a
Desolate solitary Samhain tune
From heart of the
Ancestral abode
Deviating through misty movement
Of swirling dancing ghosts
Reaching across the
Invisible spectral gate
Holding, presenting, gesticulating
Through the heart of matter
The hidden splendid realm
Whence we return.

The Anglo-Celtic Chapel

Photo reproduced with kind permission of Andrea Abbott

The Anglo-Celtic Chapel

Astonishing, stunning, sublime!
Such an unexpected sepulcher
Like a standing sentinel
An east coast bulwark
An ecumenical shrine
Attesting, arresting with
Haunting eerie stillness
Peacefullnes and sanctuary -
Fourteen hundred years ago
From an east coast sister sanctum
By the shore of Oswald's reign
Cedd founded this space by the
Salt-marsh wetland estuary snaking
Towards the grey steely eastern North Sea.
This unique ancient
Cathedral of Anglo-Celtic hermits
Built from the rubble of the
Long expired empire of Rome
Upon this ancient Trinovantian shoreline
Where the ghosts of mariners and
Their sea-going barges
Presenting billowing russet-red sails
Slowly and gracefully moving along
The wise old Blackwater
Blemish the far reaching horizon
Staining and punctuating
Reflecting the setting sun and
The warm glow of the tiled roof.
The liturgy of Lindisfarne
Whence sages, priests and pilgrims
Sailed into this secretive creek-side dwelling
Their prayers
Dance and play along with the spacious
Movement of time
Shifting, hastening, expediting as
Easily as the silty
Salty tidal powerful muddy heaving sea!

In the Fen Country by Vaughan Williams

Sutton sunset, Isle of Ely

I have always envisaged that my poem In the Fen Country, should be read accompanied by the tone poem of the same name composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams in 1904. This sublime symphonic impression completely and perfectly encapsulates the strange beauty of the East Anglian Fens. Something I have tried to capture in words. Enjoy!

In the Fen Country

by Alex Langstone

White Owl hovers over the plain
Darkening skies above
Cool crisp snow, carpeting the evening landscape
As Fenland closes in around
With a wild surety
That only a hunting bird of
Nocturnal skies can only really know.
Dusken spirit of this land within
A land, shimmering ghost
Gliding softly till his quarry sought
With life defying talons clenched
Then away and all is quiet and still
Once more within this
Vast languishing ocean
Reclaimed prairie region.
I monitor a treeless skyline
Which lures me towards a mire of reeds
And rushes; glowering, towering
High above this lowland clearing.
Loamy shifting earthen sanctuary
Lead me to your mysterious majestic isle
Where Gothic splendour soars
And sacred music wafts on
Soft night air.
Tiny entrancing city of revelation
Sited between a darkened dome of
Jewelled and sparkling
Constellations -
Far, far older than time itself;
I listen to my dreams
In the Fen country
Where ancient Mercian and
Anglian romantic borders meet.
Silver dart-like rivers
Cris-cross divide and cut
Through this intriguing
Fen scape dream time zone,
Surreal with its gentle
Subtle beauty which creeps and sidles
Up to me alarming yet soothing
In its brooding magnificence:
A different land for me
To grit my teeth and
Stride out, exploring,
Expanding across the
Agricultural pastoral growing
Lands for larders bulging protrusions
Rustic among farm hands
Roughly hewn with work
Toiling and tilling
Their sweet surroundings
Their soft dark and peaty earth
Featureless and mountain less
It may be; but cloud-streaked blue
Wide open skies
Stretch out far and away
Resplendent with a difference
Only truly found
In this flat-land place.

Helena

Above: Elen, Lady of Nature by Paul Atlas-Saunders

Helena

Divine heavenly host
Sent from above
Beyond the veil of dreams
Helena, ghostly instiller of beauty
In this green and beautiful
Valley, whence
The quicksilver river flows -
Camel of the west
Great snaking river
Moving through the
Sacred enclosure
Of your divine intervention
Landscape Sovereign of
Ancient place
The elbowed river
Travelling towards the north
Silver-singing artery of life
Running from the misty upland moor
To Atlantic rollers crashing
Against the massive darkened
Sea-stained craggy serrated cliffs
This secret celestial valley
Sanctified, soft and peaceful
Hidden site of blissful repose
Fed by the old straight track
From other places, abodes and realms
Lady of dreams
Light up the morn with
Your ancient light
Oh Lady of sunrise
Goddess of sunset
Take us to your eternal home
The secret space from
Whence you perpetually reside
By the flowing river, where the reindeer hide
In your esoteric time-spun enclosure
At the edge of the wild gorse-tangled upland
Of the arcane sea-clad Celtic fringe!
Holy Helena, treasure seeker
Truth inspirer, love desirer
Nature's finest resurrection
Autumn leaves glow introspection
Natural spirit come to me
Eternal quester, confider, jester
Nature's soul-womb eternally,
Quietly found in this
Iconic medieval landscape
By mill and trackway
You travel by half-light
Manifesting through dreams
Where once you were queen
O'er the bridge which spans
Your waterway bright
Sylvan spirit
Light of light!
The cosmic dance of river flow
Elfin track and wind strewn rain
Find us, teach us
Take us back
From whence you came -
Our landscape lady Elen ran
Through the ancient roads where life began.
Oh Helland Goddess of the
Green-track, guardian of the antlered ones
Show us your story, your mystic ray
Spreading light and joy through the endless day!

Helland Bridge, August 2009