Paradox

By Jenne Micale

Photo of Jenne Micale

Jenne Micale

Look: the weathered wood of the barque rides the leaf-green sea.
Look again: the white foam streams in the wind, mane of mares.
A chariot skims the grass-heads.
Birds fly silver-scaled.

Another mystery of the road poured out from a bag of crane skin.

Speak false, and cracks splinter the cup, the mead splashing out.
Speak true, and wounds heal in metal and flesh, silver bells sound on the branch, bringing laughter, sleep, surcease from pain.

Another mystery of the cloak he shakes between us and other.

With meadow grass, we pay the rent to Fand's beloved.
Yellow blossoms, a cask of ale where the foam touches the sandy shore, echoing cliffs or the fall of mist.

Another mystery of the gray at the joining of dusk and day.

Son of Lir, all land is your fabled isle, all seas your sea, the changing of light in the depths.
All is mystery.
Look and look again: flowers, fish, grass
What is and is not.

This entry was posted in HH #89, The Bard's Path and tagged by Jenne Micale. Bookmark the permalink.

About Jenne Micale

Jenne Micale is a writer, singer, priestess and musician whose endeavors include the ethereal/wyrd music project Kwannon and, in former times, the wyrd folk band Belladonna Bouquet. A member of the Henge of Keltria and Keltrian initiate, she also has had work published in "Talking About the Elephant: An Anthology of Neopagan Perspectives on Cultural Appropriation," "To Fly By Night: The Craft of the Hedgewitch" and "Brighid and Me: Experiences with the Goddess," as well as the forthcoming poetry anthology "Mandragora." You can find out more at www.kwannon.net or read her Druidic musings at whitecatgrove.wordpress.com.

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