Water Spirit And Ancestors


  • Philosophy

    Water Spirit And Ancestors

    Water Spirit and Ancestors
    (Written Centerville Yacht Club 8.5.08)
    Dedicated To Charlie and Gisele Jones
    My partner, Jordan Andre De Liso's Grandparents

    Ceiling fans make whirling turns,
    Stirring memories,
    Mental etchings of my childhood come to pass,
    All around signs for soulful remembering,
    Of the great joy of the sea, first appreciated long ago,

    Veranda planks, salty breeze,
    White pillars of wood,
    Hanging gardens,
    Spectators sharing juleps and iced tea,
    Spirit of witness fills so blissfully,

    Rudder, boom and mizenmast,
    This, my watery love, to last,
    Hornpipe dancers of a future past,
    Some seafarer's into the tempest of Valhalla have passed,
    Finding peace after all the adventures with Davy Jones,

    Water, sunlight, shells, Mother Earth in sand,
    I praise the good and the bad of open sea and coastal lands,
    Reaching for the misty spray with wide open hands,
    The beauty of storms or fair winds and following seas,
    Make oceans of hope in this life, for me,

    The old flag pole clanks,
    Like a peaceful cacophony,
    Heard from over the banks, over the bay,
    To my Mother Goddess creator,
    Thank you for giving me sight to see this day,

    Children happy, laughing in my existence,
    Heaven is not some jeweled mansion,
    But a beach with rainbow tides for the gods,
    Where funny folk of this life,
    Old sea captains are never considered odd,

    Ah Poseidon, how my soul does love your dance,
    Because of your understanding punishment,
    This life by you through dreams, give dreamers a chance,
    There should never be time for the landlubber's laziness,
    With all your gifts to this watery planet,

    Walk a beach, sail the winds,
    With sand build things, catch your dinner,
    Swim and play with your friends,
    Messages in bottles do send,
    May the joy of water, for all, never end,

    Look those of your people in the eye,
    Even if by modern life you are blind,
    Hail multi-colored dusk's and twilight's smile,
    No time for useless piles of self-pity,
    As the angels cry happy tears, dance a ditty,

    Look to the one you love,
    Groom or Bride in their eye,
    Let your soul rise,
    As what comes from builders of sandcastles,
    Is that which wants to come forth, the happy child,

    Sunset, moonlit sails on glass calm waters so rare,
    Raise glasses of Mead, rum and ale,
    For all the quiet and squall-filled there,
    Because from over the sea,
    Began the lives of families,

    Immigrants of the ages sailing,
    Discover dreams and new hope,
    Coming to life, learning to feel,
    And in once foreign ways, now cope,
    Bringing tradition and the new in together,

    Holy smoke,
    Lobster tails,
    Catching The Big One,
    For an old fisherman is finding the Holy Grail,
    May one's course in life due to Sirens, never fail,

    Clouds on the horizon on blue-lit illuminated night,
    Blind many to the fight's ahead, the struggle of life,
    When that night hang's peacefully bright,
    Because in the face of the calm and quiet,
    We never see our living gods starting new riots,

    Still, what bliss of lunar orbs,
    Ones past and ahead, had and have, much in store,
    Reflected well from rolling tides and cresting seas,
    Showing us who we really are,
    With coast, boat, company and garden, who needs a car?

    Take in the full and savory sky,
    Remember who you are, beacons, guiding lights,
    Always be your tribes pride, thoughtful and wise,
    From well plotted courses, may you never wane,
    May the lessons of other shipwrecks be your only pain,

    We are of much water from sea,
    You and me, love and heaven Divine,
    Look with love to yours and mine,
    Sing praises for the water sign,
    To swim naked in the ocean is to be dressed to the nines,

    Your spirits are great bliss,
    Hopefully you understand this message of time,
    Truth which the ancestors did find,
    Because of their sacrifices and lives,
    I like most, have mine.

    The Faery King 2008

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    Dancingfire commented on Water Spirit And Ancestors


    Really love it . Awesome and beautiful !

    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    FaeryKing’s Poems (17)

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    Attila's Theme 0
    Ode To You my Goth Empress (A Hot One) 3
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