Alexander Averin

Tuesday, 1 November 2011

The Touchstone

The Lady
John William Waterhouse

You are not enclosed within your bodies nor confined to houses or fields. That which is you dwells above the mountain and roves with the winds.
Kahlil Gibran

The Touchstone

On Samhain’s night by a waxing moon

the veil was thin, the spirits drew near,

their music was heard in rocks, deep as a drum

beating hard and true against my heart.

I felt them in the Irish mountain rains

whose clouds I follow keenly, like a nun.

I saw them too in the embers of my hearth

and in the candle’s flame.

Today, I scry in my crystal ball

on an Indian summer’s morn,

my tiny cottage windows are open wide.

and sylphs rush in on the breeze.

I pass my dreams to them,

attaching a prayer of hope

that Truth will always prevail,

far and wide, way above treetops.

My dreams can fly with joy

but should they ever fall in pain

I know they will reform

by magic and by alchemy

to form a sacred touchstone for my soul.

Cait O’Connor


Frances said...

Cait, I have read this post and the one just prior very quickly. This is no way for me to read your beautiful posts.

I promise to find the time to return and to read with care all the words about this very unique time of the year.


Cottage Garden said...

Cait, this poem is sublime and accompanied by one of my favourite JWW drawings. Isn't she just beautiful?


CAMILLA said...

Hello Cait,

Another beautiful poem you have shared with us, thank you Cait, love the drawing too.