Wild Violet
These words are inspired by the Japanese poet Basho, in which he says that on his way through the mountain road his heart leapt at the sight of a wild violet. I am sure we have all experienced an intense moment when we are moved by some part of nature, perhaps an epiphany, perhaps it is a celebration of life, perhaps just a moment that is ours alone. He says that on his way through the mountain road the sight of a wild violet touched his heart. He continues. One such moment for me was when I was walking in the woodlands and I came across an old, broken, dying thistle. He was such a sad sight. There was a small history in him that would soon be lost. And yet he struggled on. I called him Don Quixote. I went every day to see him until he wasn’t there anymore. The following year his children bloomed, he did not return. Even today, although that place has been taken over by the ever vigorous bramble, and there are no signs of any thistles, I still pass by and remember him. This piece is something mystical and magical. A wild violet.
This is the spark of such a puzzling dream, where stars seem to tower in great hallucinations of desire. Towers of stars, insatiable, Djinn's palaces and lambent caverns, magical, monstrous godlike beast and sent to be some silent wife of darkness. The cowering Persephone, Scheherazade who with her lantern holds the night at bay as swooshing towers of stars rise up like wind. With dreamlike brooms of white-hot gold and blinding red rise up in summons spellbound power beyond her. Towers of stars
like dragons, roaring with sleep roaring with the profoundest deep of slumber, slumber of a thousand years and a thousand dreams.
As she awaits the rescue of some swallow, some fiery winged-horse she knows will come and cowers with the very light she holds. Her summons binds to legend and unfolds, to snare like spider silk, as she grows old. Now, only fire, the intensity of her incineration and her deep young prophetess-eyes over the red, luminous earth. This is what happens when you forget. This is what happens when you struggle to get free. She feels the flames of revelation quicken in her breast and the apocalyptic loom of electricity takes hold, and catches fire in her hair.
The leaden hand of dread melts in her heart and fears the reckless glory of her saviour. His wild crimson upset of mythology that tears the seamless fabric of her fate and trails a monstrous fire over the sea. Her summons has awakened an ancient mystery of endless fire.
Awestruck. She is not afraid.
Smaointe
There is a forgotten story about a hidden village on the sea that many years past, a great wave swept onto the land, crashing down upon the small church and graveyard, destroying the chapel. All who were in the building that day perished. Memories of childhood and days spent, memories you can treasure always.
I wrote Smaointe in response to these reflections. Literally translated means thoughts.
The summer sky above us was shining in moonlight
And everywhere around us is the silence of midnight
And we had gathered on the beach
Remember the soft light of the moon on the sand
Remember this for no-one knows the way love goes
We walked the road together one last time by moonlight
And under the darkened skies the slow chimes at midnight
They say nothing is forever not even the starlight at lamplight
They say not even the searchlight
Remember this for no-one knows the way love goes
The fog it clears and the mist lifts, I stand alone against the morning tide
I am the wind with my storm before me
The clouds are forming and my smile is showing
Happiness is but a song in breeze
I will take you forward
I will tell you I love you, I want you to know I love you
I saw you standing by the ocean; I saw your face light up
I am happy you are here to save me
I cannot go to anyone, except you
I am happy that you are here, you are my saviour, my grace, an angel
Stay with me, please stay with me
As water divides us I saw you flying high above me
Our love in the midst of an evening breeze
I am happy you are happy with me
You are my saviour; you are my grace, an angel of peace upon my face
Stay with me, please, stay with me