Gone Faery-ing at Ross Falls (23 June 2019)

I have gone Faery-ing at Ross Falls,

twindle-too-la-ley-hey-nune—

with magic in leathery fingers.

I have sought the Foxglove residents

at the doors of burned-out Oaks_

crossing the slag & shale covered floor.                                1

I have conducted ghostly searches

in the cauldron-like basin

below the Falls, where sluagh-sídhe roam.

I have collected Faery Bells there,

twindle-too-le-ley-hey-nune—

and met no callers for nine nights long!                                 2

Yet time came when I heard their rhyme;

twindle-too-le-ley-hey-nune—

reflected in a Moon turned orange_

as I came to a Monkshood-gilded door.

It was there they appeared and careened

as the Moon was rising—

openly seeking my company!                                      3

I felt the Pan within me and rose up

onto the Moonlit highway

where the Faery were flying freeform!

Nine were my visions, nine were my steeds—

as I took the celestial turnpike

across drear landscapes, Faery-Haunted!                           4

Though I’d gone, I knew, I had not left;

I had flown away in my sleep_

         twindle-too-le-ley-hey-nune—

and was still by the herb-gilded door!

So, when I awoke, the Moon had gone,

but I had Faery-Dust

in my nostrils and I could hear them!                                  5

And they said—

“This ever-strange stream flows like a dream

into which you have fallen

only half-conscious and ever-haunted.

Down over Ross Falls you have slalomed,

into the silken black pool at the bottom

with its ever-Faery glimmer and gleam!

Follow merrily and sing with us:

“twindle-too-le-ley-hey-nune”—

and come again to our gilded door!”                                   6

“Slán go fóill!”

Retreat to Ross Falls (30 April 2019)

Tell them I have gone to Ross Falls,

to hearken to the crows

and listen to the whoosh of the waters

along the swift brook above.                                      1

Tell them I have gone to Ross Falls,

to bathe in the torrent

falling from on high, down over the slates,

into the shallow pool below.                                      2

Tell them I have gone to Ross Falls,

to listen to the crows speaking

in the boughs of Oak, Maple and Sycamore;

deciphering tales of another world.                            3

Tell them I have gone to Ross Falls,

to listen for the monks

chanting in the valley below the waters,

‘twixt deluge and river_                                             4

And when I hear their ancient songs,

I will go with them

into imagined holy landscapes,

leaving all of mundanity behind—

if only for a few magical hours!                                 5

Tell them I have gone to Ross Falls;

I have taken poetic flight

and they shall never see

the likes of me again,

unless they, too, learn to fly!                          6

Tell them I have gone to Ross Falls

for I have heard the music

that resounds from before my own creation;

a music of mulch, trees and power.                            7

And once you have heard

this ancient music,

there is no way to turn back;

Drop your anchors

in the Given as you may—

it is time to sing cosmic songs

and sway!                                                      8

Tell them I have gone to Ross Falls,

and may never come home again—

tell them to sell the house, if they want to;

for I have no more need of such things!        

For I have gone to Ross Falls and found

the future that an earthen wisdom reveals!                9

Nema!   So mote it be!