wild and precious.
Nov. 16th, 2021 12:16 amI have said goodbye to the stones at Calanais.
I likely shall not stand beside them again in this life.
But they will always sing
in the wind that blows through my heart.
I shall not touch the skirts of the Merry Maidens again
in this turn of life's wheel. The herd of cattle
that graze in their circle likely will be gone
long before I find a form in which to return.
There are people dear to me
that I shall never see again
with these eyes and hold in these arms
but I shall meet them again in some form
in the distant days to come.
If I go out and look up tonight,
I will likely see bright light that has come
from now long dead stars.
I may not know where or when
I shall travel past life's gate,
but I know it swings both ways
and those who love
have a wide multiverse
in which to meet again.
If I have hated any,
let us both be healed
when we meet again,
and may I tend my own heart
as if it were a garden and grow
only the seeds of love.
None of us know
if a tomorrow on earth will be ours --
even mountains wear down
and stones grind into sand.
So let us meet and touch every being
with gentle, kindly hands
and leave nothing broken
where we have passed.
These hopes may be impossible to realize,
might they not?
But how would life be now if we try
to make them come true?
Jessica Macbeth ~ 11-14-2021
I likely shall not stand beside them again in this life.
But they will always sing
in the wind that blows through my heart.
I shall not touch the skirts of the Merry Maidens again
in this turn of life's wheel. The herd of cattle
that graze in their circle likely will be gone
long before I find a form in which to return.
There are people dear to me
that I shall never see again
with these eyes and hold in these arms
but I shall meet them again in some form
in the distant days to come.
If I go out and look up tonight,
I will likely see bright light that has come
from now long dead stars.
I may not know where or when
I shall travel past life's gate,
but I know it swings both ways
and those who love
have a wide multiverse
in which to meet again.
If I have hated any,
let us both be healed
when we meet again,
and may I tend my own heart
as if it were a garden and grow
only the seeds of love.
None of us know
if a tomorrow on earth will be ours --
even mountains wear down
and stones grind into sand.
So let us meet and touch every being
with gentle, kindly hands
and leave nothing broken
where we have passed.
These hopes may be impossible to realize,
might they not?
But how would life be now if we try
to make them come true?
Jessica Macbeth ~ 11-14-2021