Hi, Dionysos

Don’t write poetry when you’re drunk, I’ve said, and yet it all weaves and wends, like under the tree where I still don’t know what they re-wove. He’s there, smiling again, back, like the time He was on another’s face, and then another’s. The time I sat there, writing about the clothes the gods wear, […]

Yes (Beltaine, 2014)

Ceridwen That was a very long death this time. I guess I needed to see the ladle in Her hand to get the point, because seeing Her sickle in the sky and greeting Her means something. I forget. I forget life while in death. I forget the light in the darkness, just as I forget […]

Utter Darkness and the Return

A rather dark period, but not an unhappy one. You know what it’s like, certainly–those strange moments of tumult which you must pass through and, in the midst of them, forget that you know there is an end. Things seem always to weave together. I’ve been thinking heavily upon the dead and death, and thought […]

Totentanz

Three days of thought, dancing. A day or two of the dead. There’s the goddess who drowns children. The goddess who goes down and then returns. And the two dead under the tomb. There’s the death in the eyes of another, though he is not dead but only beginning to live. Eyes can dance, you […]

Threads in Candlelight

I said to a friend, “We see the darkness, and some go in. It is the abyss. We have to find out what is there, to find out if there is meaning. And we see only the abyss. And some go mad. And some never return. And some–” I’m pretty sure Dionysos sort of doesn’t […]