Greetings good people.
I was going to write a post, almost apologising, at least explaining why I have been so quiet of late. This poem came out instead, so here it is .... with a working title.
I've hit an Imbas 😁 click on the link if you don't know what Imbas is.
The Bard knows when to speak,
When to be quiet.
Never appearing
To be silent,
Or disappearing in
The face of a riot.
A deer in the mist
Won't appear at your will,
Nor will it at all
If you can't be still,
At one with nature,
Peaceful, fulfilled.
No conflict in the coming
Or the going.
No disparity twixt knower
And the knowing,
With faith in the truth
In the shadow on a stone.
Discipline and wisdom
to keep your mouth shut.
Not ducking at the sign
of the first gun shot,
Only coming back,
Resurrected, love.
The Bard appears to be
hidden in the deepest mist,
The Bard appears to be
Riding on the narrative,
The Bard appears to be,
Standing on a precipice.
Repairing tattered wings and preparing them to fly.
Lisa Goodwin Just now ... December 2021